Joker: A Fair Lady (Eng Version)
by DeyaRedfield
Summary: After being attacked and humiliated by a group of youthful vandals, Arthur crosses paths with a woman desperate for help. That woman, with long reddish hair like fire, when she asked for help from that clown-painted man, would not imagine that everything around her would fall into a spiral of chaos and madness, by accepting Arthur Fleck in her life.
1. Chapter I

**DISCLAIMER: This fanfic is entirely based on the movie JOKER (2019) also based on the first script and the result we all know. All characters belong to DC Comics, except what I invented.**

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_**A/N (please read):** _First at all, thank you for giving an opportunity to my fanfiction. I appreciate it too much. I really want to share my crazy idea with you, all english speakers.

*****English is not my native language, until now I still learn it and I had never write an entire fanfic and/or story so... I'm gonna tried it. I started to wrote my fic last october and finished a little bit more than a month, (in my native lenguage, I suppose it is obvious xD) and I noticed that a good percent of people around USA and Canada was reading my fic. And I was very surprised! So I decided to translate it for all of you and take the challenge to broke my fear to write in.  
*****I really hope this fic put on you a happy face and I hope it is understandable (if you don't understand some words, grammar, sentences etc. please be free and polite to telling me and I'll correct my mistakes asap)  
*****Fanfic with Movie _Spoilers_. This fanfic is like a _"What if"_ (or retelling, as you like to call it) during the events of the film, in which the protagonist had a sentimental couple. Also the fic contains OC (Original Characters).  
*****This fic is available on Wattpad under my other accont: _Pomelo_Banana.  
_*****The fic is listed **M** for a certain thematic of violence, a little explicit verbal language and lime. Not recommended for under 16 years old.

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**I.**

The redhead came out of that office so fast and unable to control the tears that slid down her cheeks. She cleaned them hard and continued that busy sidewalk. While dodging the sea of people, behind her she heard the pronunciation of her name in a desperate shout:

"Grace!"

Terrified she turned and observed an agitated man with an unfastened shirt and ruffled hair. She looked at him with disappointment and noticing how he was going where she was, Grace turned around and ran to get away from him. The man pushed several of the passers-by, he even knocked down some, but he did not care, he just wanted to reach the redhead.

Her heels echoed with loud noise on the floor and she attracted people's attention, Grace avoided not colliding with people and the endless garbage bags that adorned the streets. While running and hearing the disturbing screams of that man, she turned in an alley and, without paying attention to what she would find, crashed into a person, who did not perceive the redhead in the alley. Both fell to the ground and Grace, still disturbed by her escape, brought her hands to her posterior and looked up to find out who she had collided with. Once she stared, was a man with a green wig and a clown's painted face.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed terrified. "I'm so sorry, I ...!"

"Grace!" She listened. The woman turned in horror however, the clown had not even flinched for what happened.

She lifted off the ground and approached the man, ready to assist him. The redhead extended her hands to his arms and he shuddered at the woman's act.

"I want to help you," she whispered. "Really, forgive me!"

"Grace!"

The ginger head looked back at the entrance and the fear covered her entirely. The clown noticed the tension in the woman, the name he heard was probably hers, so he accepted her help. The man who was after her stopped and looked at the redhead and the clown. He entered on the alley, with an anger on his face and took her from one of her arms, squeezing it and sticking it to him.

"Fuck Grace, let me talk!" He shouted, feeling drops of saliva on her cheeks.

"You don't have to say anything, Richard!" The redhead replied, unable to meet his eyes. "I saw it all! Now, leave me alone!" She exclaimed as she tried to free herself from his grip, but she could not. He held her up with incredible strength. "Let me go!" She implored.

"Of course not, until you hear me!"

Grace turned around and looked in terror at the man with clown make-up, in her eyes was begging him for help. He just watched strangely.

"I saw you having sex with your secretary! You don't have to explain anything to me and let me loose!" Grace screamed as tears fell back on her face. She put her hand on Richard's and tried to let go, but knowing that it was impossible, she returned her glance with that man.

"Why do you look at him?!" He asked furiously. "You, second-class clown, get the fuck out of here!"

They both noticed how the man widened his cheeks, his lips were two huge curves and a strange and distinctive laugh emerged. Grace and Richard watched the clown laugh uncontrollably. The redhead felt a chill run through her body while Richard was stunned by what they witnessed.

"What's so funny, asshole?"

"Richard!" The woman stopped him. The clown carried one of his hands over his mouth, it was shaking but laughter did not stop. "Enough freaking phenomenon!" he demanded.

"Richard, shut up!"

He released Grace and when felt her free arm she massaged it with despair, he approached the clown and this, with his uncontrollable laughter and a painful expression on his face, looked at the man who despite looking stunned, the bearing of his suit and skin care ratted him out a man of good standing.

"What's so funny, you fool?" He asked amusedly. The clown took one of his hands to his pants pocket, took out a small card and handed it to Richard, who read it in a few seconds and a half smile landed on his face.

Grace did not understand what was happening, she kept looking at the moment in fear until Richard raised his arm and with his fist hit the clown's face. The redhead shouted in terror, bringing her hands to her face as she watched the clown fall to the ground, without his laughter being able to stop.

"Damn it, Richard!" She screamed.

He approached to the clown and ready to kick him, felt a blow behind him. He was stunned for a few seconds and then turned to see Grace with a garbage bag in hand; the redhead had dared to hit him. He was stunned by the action of his fiancée and come close to slap her face, knocking her down in the same way as the clown. Grace's ears were deaf for several minutes, the cold of the pavement penetrated her skin and the foul smell of garbage consumed her nostrils.

The fear she carried with her became horror when remembered the blow Richard had given her. In all the time as a couple, he had never raised his hand to her, but today things had changed. The love she felt for that man vanished as the security of the city in which she lived. Richard approached her, ready to keep hitting her when several garbage bags fell on him. With a quick glance he discovered that the clown was the one who threw them and, taking a large and heavy one, he let down it on his head. The clown approached the redhead and tried to lift her up to run out that place.

Grace looked startled at her savior, rose as her feet could and they ran out of that alley without looking back.

* * *

People saw open-mouthed to the clown and the redhead running through the streets of Gotham City. Neither of them cared that they looked at them that way. As they moved away from that place they stopped and entered a new alley, flooded in endless garbage and they both were place on each wall. The two were breathing agitated, they lacked air and Grace thanked inside her that this will end.

"Thank you," she said once her breaths returned to normal. The clown looked out the corner of his eye and did not answer. "Are you ok?" She asked worried. He kept silent. "I'm truly sorry for what happened, I ..." She stopped and brought one of her hands to her chest. "I'm really sorry," The clown remained in silence and worried about it, Grace approached him, who was defensively because of the redhead's proximity. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know if you're okay."

"Yes," he replied in a low voice. "Did he hurt you seriously?" She insisted. "If he did, let me take you to the hospital."

"I-I'm fine."

"It doesn't seem like that. Let's go to the hospital."

"It's not necessary ..."

"Please, I need to know if you're okay," she pleaded. The clown looked up in great amazement and stared at the redhead. She looked nervous, her left cheek was swelling from the blow received and her light green eyes were bloodshot from her crying. "Let's go."

* * *

In the hospital both were treated, revealed that the blows had not caused major damage, more to the clown who brought with him different blows of what her ex-boyfriend had provided. Grace had an ice pack on her cheek and watched the clown sitting on the stretcher, with several bandages on his body. They had not spoken a word since they did in that alley and Grace, with a great curiosity to know her savior better, approached and took a seat next to him. He turned in surprise and gave her a fleeting look and the redhead smiled nervously as she watched him.

"I think my thanks will be endless," she said, with some charm. He did not react. "It will be possible to know the name of my hero?"

The man moved his eyes, still wore his clown makeup and his wig lay on the stretcher, letting out his long brown hair.

"Arthur," minutes later, he revealed. "Arthur Fleck." The redhead smiled. "Thank you, Arthur Fleck. I'm Grace Davis," she said as she extended her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Arthur looked at her hand, then at her and he looked confused for that action, however, she waited patiently for his greeting was correspond. A long minute passed, and Arthur took Grace's hand, which was cold from the ice she carried, and they greeted each other properly. A nervous smile adorned the redhead's face, the go and down of their hands did not stop, until she raised her green eyes and crossed with Fleck's clear and lost gaze. Feeling the weight out that green gaze, Arthur released his hand abruptly and began looking for his things to leave. Grace noticed how desperate he was, and she get surprised.

"It's all ok?" She asked worried. Arthur affirmed quickly, and with his things in hand, he left the place. Grace was stunned, put aside her ice pack and went after him. "Arthur!" she exclaimed; he did not stop. The redhead accelerated her steps and managed to reach the desperate Fleck. "Wait! Everything is fine?" he did not answer. Grace sighed and with a calm look she analyzed him. "Arthur, you know? I would like to thank you for helping me this afternoon. Will there be a possibility that you accept me a meal?"

Arthur did not look at her, he swallowed hard while sticking his body to the wall; his nerves had consumed him, and he could not respond to the woman. Grace sensed the discomfort between them, tapped her chest with her fingers and an idea came to her mind. She took out her wallet, looked for a paper and wrote down a phone number with a pen.

"If you want to eat with me, call me," she finished with a big smile as handed her the little sheet of paper. Arthur frowned and looked at the insistence on the redhead. He snatched the paper, turned around and ran from that place, without saying goodbye to Grace.

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_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	2. Chapter II

**II.**

Grace arrived at home. The pain in her left cheek had intensified along the way; she was given simple medications at the hospital and to reduce inflammation with ice for fifteen minutes it would be more than enough. She threw his bag into her armchair and turned on the television, the Murray Franklin show had begun.

In what the applause harmonized Grace's living room, she went in search of ice for her face, finding only frozen food. That would be her balm. The redhead brought the package to her face and a burning was inevitable, the grimace she did would have worried more than one.

Grace watched the program but did not pay attention, her mind rambled on what happened this afternoon. All her dreams and hopes she had forged with who she considered the love of her life, it had withered which flower entering winter.

The hatred that Grace felt towards herself was immense. She wondered how she could be so stupid, so naive. Richard had always been a womanizer since she met him. It was incredible that at some point she thought he was going to change, he was going to do it for her, and however, reality hit her with great strength when she found him in his office with his secretary.

The image of them having sex on that desk had been tattooed in her memory and when she remembered it, tears flowed again. Her sobs inundated her apartment. She put aside the frozen bag, bringing her hands to her face and feeling that pain that the ice had calmed.

And the moment Richard had hit her was also permeated in her memory. Richard could be everything but hitting her had been a new level. The fear covered Grace and a possible image of her future formed in her head, thinking that if she had joined her life with him, she would never be happy.

* * *

Grace came on time for her work at the post office in Gotham City. She was setting up her desk when she noticed how one of the mailmen, Mr. Kersh, was taking a seat next to it.

"Good morning, Grace," he greeted, exhausted. Mr. Kersh was a man of almost sixty-five years old. He had dedicated his entire life to the mail. "Good morning, Mr. Kersh," she replied with great joy. "Today looks like a quiet day, don't you think?"

"Quiet? In Gotham City? Ha!" He cried sarcastically. "First I die to a day of peace shine in this damn city."

Grace smiled awkwardly and took her eyes to the papers she had to check. Mr. Kersh stretched his legs, prepared for a long day's journey when something caught his attention on the redhead's face. He frowned and stared at Grace's left cheek, appreciating how swollen it was. "What happened to you?"

Concerned she looked at him from the corner of her eye and quickly dropped her long reddish hair to cover her face.

"An accident," she lied.

"Child, don't fool me. I know that kind of blows. It was him? Your boyfriend."

"No, no," she said quickly and nervously. "To be honest, Mr. Kersh, I was assaulted in the subway, yesterday afternoon. I was very insistent, and the thief hit me in the face."

Grace gave him a quick look and reached down to get the material out of his drawers. Mr. Kersh knit his brows even deeper, he does not believe her and sighed bitterly, getting of his chair and ready to prepare for his long day. He knocked on Grace's desk and she looked up, somewhat astonish for his action.

"I hope you leave that guy... you're a good woman, you deserve someone better."

The redhead's green eyes covered in a crystalline cape. She bent down her face and brought her hand to each eye to avoid crying. Mr. Kersh left the place and being covered in solitude, Grace prepared to start her work, typing in her typewriter the forms that she had to assign for today.

* * *

It was mealtime and Grace got ready to go out. Once she set foot outside the post office, the redhead noticed a very familiar vehicle parked in front of her workplace. She sighed exhausted and began to take steps towards where her favorite restaurant was. The car began to follow her with a slow pace, and she sought to accelerate the walk. The car was next to the pavement she was walking, the passenger's side glass was lowered, and a familiar person leaned out.

"Grace, honey!" Richard called. She closed her eyes and the sighs grew stronger. "Please stop!" The redhead obeyed, but she did not look at him. "Get in the car."

"Go to hell, Richard," she replied.

Upon hearing that answer, he stopped his car and got out of it. Grace ignored him, continued walking and Richard approached her and took her arm, like he did yesterday, causing the chills to run through her body. She turned and both looked at each other. Richard looked furious, instead, the redhead tried to look as calm as possible.

"Grace," he insisted with a dangerous smile. "Beautiful, you know we need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do."

"You are not leaving. You get in the fucking car and we'll talk."

"No! She exclaimed as she shook her arm. People looked at the scene they were forming, and a shame was painted on the redhead's face. Richard, noticing the scandal they formed, released Grace. "Let's go to a better place, okay?"

"I said no! I do not want to hear from you anymore. As of today, you and I are nothing and I want you to get away from my life."

"Are you hearing yourself?" He questioned amusedly. "Do you want me out your life? Please Grace! You cannot live without me, or what? You feel so self-sufficient to live on your own, because if so, how wrong are you, heart."

At those words, Grace deduced that for Richard she was nobody, just a miserable and silly looking for affection. The redhead looked at her left hand and noticed the elegant and bright engagement ring. She pulled it out of her ring finger and threw it into Richard's chest.

"Don't come near me again and if you do, I will kill you. Did you get it?!" She said furiously.

Grace turned around and walked away from Richard, who did not stop laughing and she tried controlling the tears that want to ask out.

* * *

The workday for Arthur was not the most rewarding. He got a bad treatment by his boss, who had not cared about have been attacked and mugged yesterday. The bruises that adorned his body were an inexhaustible source of heat. The fact of remembering what happened the day before, he wanted to get even with the first guy that crossed his path. He wanted to get home and forget everything. Although it was impossible.

He came home and hid the bag with the revolver that Randall, his co-worker, had given him to protect himself. He approached the mailbox and opened it without surprise that there was no letter in it, Arthur closed it and walked to the elevator to travel his way to his apartment. During her trip in the elevator was his neighbor; Sophie Dumond, a single mother with a frivolous nature whom Arthur secretly harassed. She was a beautiful, tempting brunette, it did not seem like she was a mother; she was a perfect woman. She was the perfect woman for him. The elevator doors opened, and Arthur left first and then Sophie with her daughter, who did not care too much about the little one. Arthur arrived at his apartment, entered and looked at his mother watching the TV. "Happy!" She exclaimed full of joy. "I'm glad you arrived! Did you check the mail?"

"Hi ma," he responded without much encouragement. "Yes ma. There is nothing."

"Oh!" She cried disheartened. "I don't understand why Thomas Wayne takes so long to answer. Will they be losing my letters?" Arthur did not answer. "You arrive just in time to see Murray. Come on, sit down, I serve dinner in a moment."

He obeyed his mother, he sat on the couch and watched with a big smile adorning his face, the Murray Franklin show. His idol, his role model.

The show entertained the masses, mainly Arthur. The clock struck eleven and it was time for her mother to go to bed; he would take care of washing the dishes. Once his mother fell asleep, Arthur did not perform the cleaning; he went straight to sit on the couch and look at the weapon Randall had given him. The barrel of the revolver had fascinated him, attracted him from the moment he looked at it. It was hypnotic. A strange sensation invited him to dance along with the weapon; he felt liberated. While his footsteps followed an imagined melody, Arthur pulled the trigger causing a shot to one of the walls. The impact that the weapon generated created a panic in him as well as in his mother, who woke up terrified of the impact.

"Happy, what happened?!" From her room, she cried horribly.

Arthur lied about watching a war movie. Frightened by the incident, he hid the gun and looked back at the television. Arthur's legs began to shake; the cravings consumed him, and he decided to go to sleep. He took one of his hands to the pocket of his pants, discovering a small paper. Feeling curious about it, he opened the crumpled paper and astonished looked at a phone number. The neat and cursive letter seen on that old and wrinkled sheet impressed Arthur. Grace Davis's name was what appeared next to her phone and he remembered yesterday's redhead. He had completely forgotten her, and it came to his mind as if it were a blow.

_"If you want to eat with me, call me,"_ The woman's voice sounded in his mind.

Arthur squeezed the blade tightly, he thought whether to dial that number. And while doubt split his head, his body had turned to the phone. And as he looked away from the paper, he appreciated the device. He swallowed hard, watched everywhere in case his mother appeared, and with many nerves dialed that number.

* * *

Grace was washing her dishes, she had dinner while watching the Murray Franklin show as she did every week. She was humming a song when she heard the ring of her phone. She dropped the plates, the sound had taken her by surprise, and the redhead dried her hands and went to answer that strange night call.

"Hello?" An awkward silence was the answer. Grace was afraid of the emptiness on the other side of the line and in a trembling voice she insisted: "Who do you want to talk to?"

"Grace?" She heard and did not recognize the voice. "I-Its ... It's A-Arthur, Arthur Fleck."

"Arthur Fleck?" She asked quietly, until it came to her mind that he was his savior from yesterday. "Arthur Fleck!" Grace exclaimed while with both hands took the receiver. "Wow, I'm glad you called!" On the other side of the line Fleck gave a half smile. "Yes, ah, I ..." he snapped. "Well, I remembered your invitation from yesterday and ..."

"Do you want to eat with me?" She asked with a big smile. A new silence formed. Grace tried to keep her smile on what Arthur's response was waiting for, who had been seriously frightened by how he had made this call. "Arthur?"

"Sure!" He exclaimed, somewhat stunned. "Of course, I would like to! If you can."

"Of course, I can. It would be possible tomorrow at lunchtime?" Silence. "If you can, of course."

The answer was slow to arrive and in a slight whisper Arthur said yes and Grace, encouraged by it, summoned him in his favorite restaurant, near his work, tomorrow at lunchtime.

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_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	3. Chapter III

**III.**

Arthur brought the cigar to his mouth; he did not want to talk, and it showed since he had crossed the threshold of that door. His psychiatrist, under the tutelage of social security, watched his patient tired; she did not want to assist him.

"Arthur," she called, and he did not look up. He continued smoking and let the smoke escape through his nostrils. The doctor placed her arms on the desk and looked at him severely. "Arthur, tell me, how have you been doing these days?"

"As they should be," he said. He looked up and observed without wishing his doctor. "How should they be?"

"Normal." He brought the cigar to his mouth and did not take his eyes off the doctor, who was keeping her face severe. "Do you bring your diary with you?"

Arthur was static and looked coldly at his doctor until, with a gentle movement, he took out his diary which was an old and wrinkled notebook. She took it and opened it to review its contents. The words that lay in those sheets, the drawings, the images, they were proof of the chaotic storm that inhabited Fleck's head. The doctor continued reading Arthur's deepest longings that was not only being a comedian, as he had said in some past, Arthur wanted to die.

The doctor looked up and watched a tranquility and serenity detonate on his face, but his body language said otherwise. His legs were rising rapidly, his hands were trembling lightly, and she appreciated how the cigar moved. The doctor sighed and closed the notebook and handed it back. Arthur took his small part of life and a slight smile covered his face.

"I was thinking that I need to increase the dose of my medication."

"Arthur, you take seven medications. Increasing the dose would be too much for you and for what the insurance covers." He shrugged. "I only suggested."

"Keep with your medications and keep writing in your journal," she finished with a bitter smile.

* * *

The cold air pounded on Fleck's cheeks as well as the repulsive scent of the city pummeled on his nose; Gotham was the worst city to live. Its corruption, the endless garbage and the rich being richer and the poor being poorer. What a mockery it was to see Thomas Wayne; emblematic businessman, political figure and next representative of the people, showing his face in each television program, in each newspaper and his voice resounding on the radio every moment of the day. Arthur did not understand why his mother insisted that Thomas Wayne could help them. That this man could take them out of the deep misery they had lived since he had reason. He snorted bitterly as he pulled out a new cigar. The smoke went along with the blizzard of air and Arthur looked at the clock, it would soon be lunchtime and he was far from the place mentioned. He turned back and accelerated his steps to arrive early for his appointment.

* * *

Grace had a moment of peace in her office, she took a small mirror from her drawer and examined her makeup and hairstyle. Everything looked good. Her cheeks were dyed in a light pink, highlighting her skin and the long reddish hair she had. Her silly smile caught the attention of her companions, she put away her mirror and resumed accommodating her papers.

"You look beautiful today, Grace," one of her companions said. "Will something special happen today?" She asked with a mischievous smile. The redhead tried to hide the joy that detonated her face and avoid looking at her companions. "No. Nothing will happen today."

"Sure Grace!" Exclaimed another co-worker. "Looks like you're going on a date."

She let out a snort and looked at the clock on the wall. There were not far from lunchtime and Grace decided to ignore her companions and wait for the time to arrive.

* * *

When the hands came together at one o'clock, Grace got up and ran out of the office. Her companions looked amazed as the redhead left the place without wishing for bon appetite.

She arrived at the restaurant and there was no sign of his invited; Grace did not know him without his clown makeup, and she wanted to see him without the paint. She knew he would recognize her, but no one approached her. Grace asked for a table for two and she waited patiently for Arthur Fleck to arrive. In what he was coming, she asked for the letter and ordered a coffee.

Arthur arrived at the right place, he was agitated and through the wet glass he saw a reddish hair. Arthur led one of his hands to the back of his neck, scratched his hair and felt his nerves bloomed. Too many questions came into his head, first, why had this woman decided such a thing? Was it the pity that acted for her? And endless things were machined in that head.

He stopped dead, hit his cheeks and took as deep a breath as he could and coming up with courage, entered at the restaurant. The doorbell rang, a few people looked at him for seconds, for him they were eternal, and at a slow pace he headed towards that red-haired hair. A few inches from her, Arthur felt the need to flee because it was not necessary this meal. Never was. He watched as the woman carried part of her hair behind her ear and he swallowed hard. Out of the corner of his eye, the redhead sensed a presence. She turned and looked at a serious and peculiar man.

They both looked at each other. There was no reaction from both. Grace analyzed him until his mind shaped the clown makeup, she had seen two days ago.

"Arthur?" She asked. Grace rose and a pretty, nervous smile was drawn on her face. Both were less than thirty centimeters away and Grace had finished putting the makeup on that face. He was his savior. "Arthur?" She insisted with immense joy.

He passed saliva and his cheeks sought to rise to answer the question of the redhead. A few laughs were his response. Arthur brought his arm over the middle of his face, trying to avoid the laughter that want to get out. He nodded as watching the woman's reaction. Grace had diminished her smile but stood firm, not showing discomfort at the situation that Arthur showed.

A few laughs were present, they were not as loud as most of the time. Arthur lowered his arm and, noting from the corner of his eye how certain clients watched them. He breathed heavily and tried to control his laughter.

"Gra-Grace Davis?" He asked. The redhead smiled. "Yes. Glad to see you Arthur, are you hungry?"

The nerves that Arthur carried with him quickly vanished in tremendous surprise. The redhead had not questioned him about his laughter less insulted him, on the contrary, she was glad to see him and asked if he was hungry. They were signs of affection and it was strange for him.

"Yes," almost amazed, he replied.

"Let's take a seat," she offered. Arthur obeyed and have a seat in front of the woman with reddish hair. "I haven't ordered anything, just a coffee. I do not know what you like but you can eat whatever you want. I invite."

The astonishment became more evident on Arthur's face. Never, in all his life, no one had invited him a meal, only his mother and when there was money. And today he felt like his mind wandered about what is happening. Grace handed him the menu, he was still smiling, and he accepted the letter.

"How was your day?" She asked. Arthur stared her, nobody asked him about his day.

"Well, something boring."

"Is your day really boring?" She asked amusedly. "I thought it was more fun than mine."

"Why?"

"Because you should always bring joy."

Arthur knit his browns, those words had a strange familiarity with which his mother always told him, to bring joy to the world. Grace noticed how close her frown was, she was surprised and looked him worried. "I said something wrong?"

Arthur blinked quickly and observed those bright emerald eyes.

"No. I'm sorry," he said embarrassed when he took the letter. Grace's strangeness floated and as he released, Arthur showed his best smile. "It's true, I must bring joy. That's what a clown does."

Now Grace blinked in bewilderment and then smiled.

"What a lovely job," she said, taking her cup of coffee. "You must feel good to put a smile on someone's face." She drank her coffee and watched Arthur who drew a thin line on his face. "Yes, it's always satisfying to see someone's happiness."

Grace's cheeks had widened thanks to her smile. Arthur examined her and noticed the blow on her left cheek, the redhead had hidden it well with makeup, however. If someone paid her attention, it was visible.

"And how are you feeling?"

"Better. And you...?

"It hurts less," she said, bringing her hand to her cheek.

The waitress interrupted the moment to request her orders. The two ordered their food and delivered the letters. Again alone, all they did was look at each other. Grace looked at Arthur with great admiration and affection, her eyes showed all that and for him it was a new, confusing and strange look. All his life, with all the people who had crossed path around this city, the looks they gave him were of contempt, hatred and many times they were not looked at, they just ignored his existence.

"That's nice," he replied. Grace drank her coffee again. "Where are you working?"

"I'm a secretary at the city post office."

"It sounds interesting."

"It's boring. Being locked in an office is very boring, believe me."

While they waited for their food, Arthur and Grace talked about simple things, to get to know each other better. Arthur was two years older than Grace; she knew that he was the man of the house and took care of his mother, understanding him pretty well because she took care of her mother until she died, three years ago. Arthur omitted many details of his life, primarily his psychiatric problems; Grace was beginning to please him, and he did not want her to get away from him so quickly.

The food arrived, they started eating and the conversation continued.

"And tell me, Arthur, are you dating someone?" She asked as her cheeks painted in red. Arthur blinked uncertainly as he looked at his food, a steak with salad. Grace felt her cheeks burn and looked up to him. "Forgive me," she continued. "That's your private life and you don't have to tell me if you don't ..."

"No," he interrupted, and she saw him. "Nothing formal" remembering her neighbor; Sophie. She smiled embarrassed and looked back at her plate. "And your couple?"

"I told him where to go," she said with a sad smile. Arthur raised both eyebrows. "He was an infidel and miserable. I'm glad to finally realize that." He nodded in response. "And to think that I was going to marry him ... but thank God that I didn't."

Arthur showed a half smile and brought a leaf of salad to his mouth. Grace felt like she was releasing a light weight from her shoulders. She had not talked to anyone about Richard and having talk with Arthur about it she had felt calmer.

* * *

The rest of the meal was quiet and with more relaxed and cheerful conversations. Arthur and Grace smiled at every question and answer they gave. And he felt happy. For the first time, he felt happiness.

They finished the meal; Arthur was a good gentleman and accompanied Grace to her work. Along the way, he told the redhead about a dream he had, being a comedian.

"My mother always tells me that my mission in this life is to give people happiness," he said as he looked at her. Grace smiled warmly. "What beautiful words from your mother. And she is very right." He looked surprised. "Have you ever performed in public?" Arthur denied fast. "I'm still not ready. I Practice, I write my jokes, but I am not ready for it. No yet."

"I get it. I hope, one day, I can be part of your audience and listen to your show," she revealed honestly. Arthur looked at her in amazement, people would usually make fun of him for such an idea, but not her. She did not at any time.

Grace stopped her steps and looked towards the building and Arthur looked at her face. She resumed her sight and when she discovered him, she smiled.

"Here I work," she said amused. "If one day you need to send a letter, tell me and I will send it as soon as possible." He widened his lips and tilted his head. "Arthur, it was wonderful meeting you. I hope we can continue living together ... If you want!" She exclaimed nervously.

Those words rumbled in Fleck's head. Were they true? Were her wishes true?

"Sure. I would love to."

Detonating a pleasant feeling, Grace reached out her hand to say goodbye. Arthur was quick to respond and they said goodbye cordially.

"I'll see you soon," Grace said and entered the office.

Arthur looked at her until she disappeared as she crossed the threshold. It was impossible to erase his smile and all the way, he recorded the sweet and angelic face of that redhead who had rescued two days ago in that dirty alley.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	4. Chapter IV

**IV.**

Sophie Dumond was Arthur Fleck's neighbor. Sophie had not paid much attention to Arthur's existence, but he had paid too much attention to hers. Fleck had long been attracted to her neighbor; the brunette, with good curves and incredible beauty, had enchanted him. In his free time, Arthur had dedicated to following her. Sophie steps were always the same: take her little daughter to school, go to work at the city bank, and wait for the day to end.

For some time, Sophie had sensed that someone was watching her. Sometimes she thought it was her imagination, but the hunch was strong and so much that she could not help it. When she entered the bank, Arthur let out a sigh, dropped his cloak and looked with some sadness. Sophie was an unattainable woman for him, it was just a dream and desire she longed to possess.

As he walked through the indecent streets of the city, with the idea of an unrequited love, like a hit in the face the image of the redhead came to his mind. He had eaten with her days ago and his mind seemed to want to wipe out that joyful moment of his life. A clumsy smile was drawn on his face as he captured the image of the woman in his mind. "Grace. Grace Davis," echoed inside him.

That redhead was something special. Arthur had not been able to communicate and he did not have the decency to pass him his phone. Stupid for such an action, he brought one of his hands on his forehead and cursed himself for it. He dropped his hand and looked in his pants bag for his pack of cigarettes. He took it out and brought it to his mouth and when he turned it on he felt the taste penetrate his tongue and let out the smoke delicately, making his head revolve around the idea of two women, one who did not know about him and the other one that began to know about him.

* * *

Grace arrived home and took off her wedge heels and walked barefoot throughout the room, she went to turn on the television and waited for the time of the Murray Franklin show to begin. She sat down in her sofa and somewhat discouraged, sighed as she hugged a cushion. She had eaten with Arthur Fleck days ago, since then, had not received any calls from him. She looked hopeful at her phone and there was no message on her answering machine. Grace sighed this time sadly. Arthur had delight her and, to her own surprise, her pleasure was too much. She brought the cushion to her face and cursed herself for not asking for his phone number; maybe Arthur had a lot of work and could not make a call. That should be. Grace removed the pillow from her face and leaned back in the sofa, ready to see Murray Franklin.

* * *

After Franklin's time, Arthur took his mother to bed and get her ready to sleep. Completed his task, Arthur closed the door and picked up the dishes to wash them. When he finished picking up the kitchen, Arthur sat down on the couch, lit a cigarette and looked up at his old roof. Playing with the smoke, Arthur remembered the redhead. He wanted to talk to her. He felt the need to talk to her. He got up from the chair and went straight to his phone, to dial the number that still had everything crumpled in that paper and well stored in his pants pocket. On the other side, Grace heard her phone, jumped from her sofa and took it with great haste.

"Hello?" She asked with some optimistic air.

"Grace?"

"Arthur!" She exclaimed cheerfully.

"I'm sorry to call so night, I..."

"No, it is no problem. Indeed, I'm glad you called." Fleck drew a slight smile on his face. "How have you been?"

"Fine, fine — you know, working. And you?"

"It's good that everything goes well, and I'm just like you. Just Working."

They both smiled awkwardly and ready to follow the conversation, Arthur heard a knock at his door. Surprised by it, he asked Grace to wait for him and he, curious by such a nocturnal knock, seeing to the peephole of the door, discovering his neighbor Sophie. He opened the door and the brunette leaned over the door frame. Arthur was paralyzed. He never imagined that her neighbor knock on his door.

"Arthur, right?" She questioned with a dangerous smile.

"Yes," he replied, almost out of his mind. "You were following me, right?" straight to the point, she asked.

"Yes," he confessed, not measuring the consequences of his revelation.

A tense moment formed in the air and it began to drown Arthur, Sophie smiled amusedly.

"I thought you would steal the furniture." Nervous Arthur let out a slight laugh. "Maybe I'll do it tomorrow."

Sophie turned around and went back to her apartment. Arthur was stunned for what had just happened, Sophie; her neighbor had spoken to him. She knew his name; she knew who he was. And the adrenaline grew in him. He closed the door, believing it was all a dream and suddenly he remembered the call he had on hold. He ran to where the phone was and took it: "Grace?"

"Here I am, Arthur," she replied cheerfully. Inside him he felt a little bit guilty. "I'm sorry for the delay."

"Don't worry, it's alright. Do you have to end the call?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I see."

"I promise to call you soon."

"Yes, it seems perfect —" she stopped. Grace took courage and she prepared to drop a big question: "Arthur, would it bother you if I asked for your phone number?"

He blinked perplexed. The silence became uncomfortable for the redhead, fearing the worst.

"No, it doesn't bother me," moments after analyzing the question, he said. "Thank you, Arthur," the redhead exhaled with great tranquility.

Arthur gave Grace his number, she wrote it on her agenda and they both said goodbye, hoping to meet again soon.

* * *

The handgun that Randall had granted Arthur, it had become a kind of inseparable friend for him. He decided to follow the words of his partner and take it with him for self-defense, after his incident with the youth vandals. A weapon was a good scare for anyone who wanted to threaten him. Arthur was doing his job, today he was a clown in the children's hospital. He danced and sang with the little ones who cheered up to have a clown on his side. Arthur enjoyed the moment, he was just as happy as those children when, in a false movement, his weapon fell to the ground. The nurses who accompanied the infants, saw with horror that weapon on the ground. Arthur accompanied the horror of the nurses, he bent down to pick up the gun and asked the children to remain silent while some laughed were they seem about what they just witnessed.

Arthur was in a phone booth, his boss yelled at him, being furious was little. Arthur begged his job and repeated how much he loved it, but his boss turned a deaf ear. The scolding increased until a revelation disturbed Arthur, Randall; his co-worker had told his boss that he bought that weapon from him. At those words, Fleck was paralyzed by that revelation. A "you're fired" and hanging up the phone made him come back to reality. Arthur smashed his head against the glass, and he cursed Randall, cursed him from the bottom of his heart.

* * *

Arthur's lazy steps revealed his melancholy. He just wanted to get home. He just wanted to be alone. He got into the subway, it was empty, and he meditate for a while until a young woman entered. She ignored him, it was not something new, and the subway continued its journey to a new station in which three man, with quality clothing and elegance, entered. They looked at the young woman and began to annoy her. The woman sought to ignore them, but it was impossible; she stares her gaze on him, hopeful that he was his savior. Arthur remembered Grace, he had helped her, of course, but here there was a huge difference. There were three guys against one and that time Grace had also intervened.

Laughter arose from him, that uncontrollable and loud laugh caught the attention of the three subjects. The woman took advantage of the distraction to change lanes and Arthur watched her go but her laugh did not stop. The three men looked at each other, those looks turned out to be fun, they had devised a plan. One of them began to sing and the three approached Arthur, who kept laughing. Once inside Arthur's surroundings, they began harassing him; he looked for his card to justify his laugh, but they did not care. They started beating Arthur wildly and, feeling a rage rise in him, he took out the revolver and shot one of them, killing him immediately. The other two were horrified to see their dead partner. Arthur, with an irascible hatred within him, pointed at another one, killing him at the moment. The subway stopped and the last one alive tried to flee but Arthur managed to hurt him in his leg. The doors opened and Arthur went behind him.

He had already killed two men, if he were the last surviving, it would be a big problem for him. Arthur followed him and pulled the trigger, bringing down in the middle of the subway steps. Although the man in pain rolling, Arthur repeatedly pulled the trigger until he left the gun empty.

A deafening beep covered Arthur's ears; the anger he wore was consumed to transform into an incredible adrenaline after seeing the man's dead body. Arthur did not think twice and ran out of the station.

He never looked back. The night was his only witness. Arthur felt his heartbeat incredibly, hitting him in his chest, reminding him that he had just killed three bastards. When a public restroom was found, Arthur entered it and locked himself up. His breaths were agitated, his mouth felt dry and the taste of iron of his own blood, had dried him more. Arthur turned around, dropped his things and looked in the mirror. The blows he was carrying were temporary, the blood that ran down his nose and mouth was a beautiful red. That anger and that adrenaline had forged something strange in him. A sense of freedom was the last thing that covered him, and, in a liberating dance, Arthur knew that what he had done had ecstatic. A part, which he never imagines having, arose. A new being was born that night.

* * *

The road to home was guided by the moon. Once he placed one foot in the corridor of his edifice, he knocked on a door and Sophie opened it. Arthur brought his hands to the brunette's face and kissed her like a great lover. Sophie did not understand what was happening, however, she was carried away for the moment and accepted Arthur in her arms.

Sex was part of his internal revolution. Arthur left Sophie's apartment, who with a smile of satisfaction said goodbye and closed the door. That night, Arthur had completed his deepest desire. Sophie had been her deepest carnal desire, to feel her neighbor's body next to his had increased the adrenaline that his new being had done. And it culminated in a climax that Arthur never imagined feeling.

As he closed the door of his home, he brought his hand over his face, removing more the make-up he wore. When taking his first steps, Arthur verified that his mother was asleep. Penny Fleck rested in her room, oblivious to what her son had done that night. Arthur went into the bathroom, undressed and opened the shower and once the cold water fell on his body, and the make-up slipped from his face, Arthur expressed the most gratifying smile he had made in thirty-five years of his life.

* * *

A couple of days later, Arthur did not know more about Sophie which worried him. That fabulous night had not been discussed between them and he needed to talk. He was more anxious about it that the subway incident. Deep down he would love to repeat that night and, willing to talk to Sophie, he went to look for her in her job. He wait patiently for her to go out and, once the brunette puts a foot on the floor, Arthur observed her with happiness, one that gradually faded when he saw that woman, who gave him the first best night of his life, next to a man with elegant manner, holding her hands.

That scene left Arthur petrified. Sophie, the most beautiful woman that his lips had ever kissed, was happy with another man. His blood boiled, anger seized him and in an accelerated pace, Arthur approached them both to getting rid they were holding hands. Arthur took Sophie's hand and raising it in his face, shouted at her that she was a harlot. The woman was terrified of such an act and her couple, furious at such an action, struck Arthur's face to knocking him to the ground. The horror on Sophie's face was indescribable, her couple insulted Fleck and warned him that if he approached her, it would be worse. He took the brunette on her shoulder and they both began to walk away from the prying eyes. Sophie gave Arthur one last look, revealing in those eyes that what had happened that night had been one of her biggest mistakes.

Arthur placed the back of his hand on his nose, wiping the blood that was draining. No one bothered to help him, he lifted and led his way to the post office.

* * *

Grace had been left alone in the office, her moods for eating out had vanished. He lightly touched the keyboard of his typewriter when Mr. Kersh appeared.

"What's happen to you, child?" Grace raised her eyebrows and looked at the old mailman, denying his question. "Why didn't you go out to eat with your workmates?"

"I'm not hungry," she confessed sadly.

"You look disheartened. Everything is fine?"

"Yeah..."

Grace returned her fingers to the keyboard and, while playing with them, a security guard entered the offices.

"Grace?"

"Yes?" She replied scared.

"Someone is looking for you."

"Me?"

"Yes. It's a guy, his name is Arthur Fleck and ..."

Given the pronunciation of the name, the redhead got up her chair and ran, to the surprise of those present, into the entrance. Grace arrived at the reception, there were no signs of Arthur, she walked out and when she opened the door, she saw him with his hand on his nose, decorated in blood.

"Arthur!" She cried frightened. She ran to him and, with some fear, brought her hands on his shoulders. "Gosh, Arthur, are you alright?!"

He did not answer, just watched Grace and admired the concern that she demonstrated. It was genuine. One he had not seen in another human being who had not been her mother. Grace's questions came and went through his head and Arthur dropped his hands and hugged the redhead. He laid his head on her shoulder and united his body with hers. Grace was static at Arthur's response and, moments later, she carried her arms around his back. Feeling the warmth of Grace's body, a feeling of peace sprouted, and Arthur experienced that harmonious feeling.

"I don't want to feel bad anymore," he whispered. Grace hugged him tight and nodded her head.

Arthur discovered that what he felt for Sophie had been a simple whim adorned with lust, that when it came true, its consequences were terrible. And with Grace, she had become an angel she had always needed, someone to purify this horrible world in which he had to live.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	5. Chapter V

**V.**

Arthur stopped his eyesight at the newspaper stand outside the post office. He read the first planes where the image of a clown with a devilish face, included. The murders he had perpetrated became the news of each media. At every moment of the day, where he had an opportunity, he was exalted listening to what the media had to say of such the fateful event, and the best thing was to know that a large majority of people, hovering his socioeconomic status, had supported the actions of the murderous clown. They were supporting him. For the first time, in all his life, Arthur felt the support of the people.

"Arthur!" He listened behind his back and turned around. That redhead smiles beautifully, which captivated him and drew a thin line on his face. Grace approached him and placed one of her hands on his arm. "Hi Arthur! How are you?"

"Fine, actually, pretty fine," he replied, extending that line formed in his lips, knowing the situation that was happening. "And you?"

"Fine too. I see you very happy today."

"Oh! It's nothing," he said as he tilted his head gracefully. Grace smiled amusedly and looked at the newspapers. Arthur noticed how the expression on that delicate face faded to become worry. "Something wrong?" He questioned.

"Did you know about the murders in the subway?" She asked as she wore her reddish hair behind her ears. Arthur affirmed and stood by his side; both looked at the illustrative images of that clown. "Every day this city is gets worse," Grace said. He looked at her as he knit his brows.

"It has always been a horrible place," he continued, detonating a certain hatred. "Garbage, people — mainly people." Grace turned to look at him as she carried her hands to her purse.

"Not everyone is horrible, Arthur. It is true that the conditions of the city are not the best, a long time ago but not all people are bad."

"Yes, they are," he said in an incredible rigid tone.

"No," she continued, lowered her hand and took his, surprising Arthur for her act. "You're a good person."

Arthur watched as Grace's soft, warm hand clung to his. He looked up and crossed with those green eyes, so full of brightness, watching him candidly. Fleck could not say anything. He just watched.

"Do you accompany me to the supermarket?" Grace asked with a smile. "I need to buy some things for dinner," He responded with a quick nod and, seeing how the redhead raised her cheeks, put aside those newspapers and they set out to grocery store.

* * *

In the supermarket, Arthur was driving the shopping cart while Grace chose what she needed for the dinner. Since the incident that Arthur suffered with his neighbor, and he received comfort in Grace's arms, he willing to do accompany her to her bus stop every time it was her check-out time. Grace had adored his chivalry; they used to walked and talked about many things, although the redhead talked more than he did, until she chose to invite him to dinner at her house, in a giving of thanks for his gesture and attention.

"Do you like pasta, Arthur?" She asked as she turned to look at him. He stood still for a few moments, then responded with a slight nod. "Good," Grace continued with a smile. "I must confess that I am not very good at cooking, but I can cook pastas very delicious. I hope you like it."

Arthur smiled and Grace took everything to the cart.

Concluding they purchases, Arthur helped with the heavy bags and both went to the bus stop. Along the way, Grace talked about her day at the office and he listened to her with great attention, many of his responses were to smile and nod at the situations the redhead told him. Grace spotted the stop and they both got down. When walking through the street, the night covered the city as well as the endless giant garbage bags. Arthur examined the neighborhood, it was like his; graffiti-filled walls, old buildings almost collapsing and public areas forgotten by city halls. It was amazing how the city was just as horrible everywhere.

While the redhead did not stop chattering, Arthur focus his attention on the street. On the other side there was a band of young people, probably gang members, wearing clown masks. Arthur was amazed to see how all those boys ran down the street, shouting a lot of things, from which he could distinguish a: "Death to the rich." Arthur could not hide the satisfaction on his face. He kept watching and next to them a taxi passed and the passengers turned around to see Arthur. He looked at them and the whitish masks with a red nose, green fur and a huge smile greeted him like a revolutionary hero. Arthur smiled. A movement began to see the light.

"Arthur?" He gives attention, turned back and looked at Grace, climbing a few small steps. "I live here. Come in."

He approached the redhead, who opened the door, and both entered the building. Arthur watched as she closed the access harshly, Grace looked at him and nervously said: "For the thefts. There have been many attacks around here and — well, you can imagine."

"Yes."

Grace started to walk, and Arthur went after her. They took the elevator and came to the fourth floor. Arriving at the apartment she lived in, Arthur held the bags Grace carried in her hand so she could open the door. Grace entered and offered the pass to Arthur who, seeing the site, did not mislead his curiosity. Grace's apartment seemed a little bigger where he lived; its decoration was very feminine with a touch of the fifties and it was appreciated that it was cleaned daily.

"If you like to leave the bags on the table," Grace said, returning him to reality. "And you can have a seat, make yourself at home." Grace put the keys on her little table and threw her bag into one of her armchairs. Arthur left everything in the dining room and kept looking at the whole place. "Too pink?" She asked amusedly. He looked at her and denied. "My mother loved pink. I have not had the courage to change the decorated."

"It's pretty," he revealed as he brought his hands to the pockets of his vest. "Does your mom like pink?" Grace asked as she headed to the dining room. "Not much, she likes more opaque colors."

"Interesting," She said as she pulled things out. "You know? It would be lovely to meet your mom." Arthur looked at her surprised. "I'd like to meet her."

"I should talk to her."

"I understand." Arthur took a cigar from his pockets, spread it and Grace noticed, understanding what he meant. "Sure, go ahead. No problem."

"Thank you," he said as he brought it to his mouth. "If you want to turn on the TV, I will prepare dinner."

"Yes, thank you very much."

Grace took some things and headed to the kitchen, meanwhile, Arthur kept looking at the place. He started walking and headed towards the living room, took the remote control and turned on the television. There was nothing interesting, it was not time for Murray Franklin yet. He switched the channels until he reached the news, and, on that screen, Thomas Wayne's face was present. Curious about his appearance, Arthur turned up the volume and discovered that he was talking about the three men he had killed.

_"My deepest condolences to the family of these three good men,"_ Thomas said. _"I didn't know them personally, but I can assure you that they were good, honest and hardworking men." Arthur smiled cynically at those words. Grace, who put on the apron, approached the living room to hear the rest of the news: "Mr. Wayne,"_ the reporter continued, _"As the next candidate to have a Gotham city in your hands, what do you intend to do with these insecurities? Which will be your actions to what happened with your three employees?"_

_"The acts of insecurity will be crossed out with jail and even death sentences; my main mission is to make Gotham shine as one of the best cities in the country. Gotham will be the best site in the whole world, we will not tolerate chaos in our beautiful city."_

"Everyone says the same, don't you think?" Grace asked as she looked at him. Arthur placed the cigar in his mouth and glance her with a cynical face.

"Always. Thomas Wayne is not an exception."

"Sometimes I would like to think that he is," she let out a sigh. "So many years of violence, corruption; it's hard to believe someone who promises to clean a city in no time, isn't it?" Arthur knit his brows and looked seriously at Grace. "No one could ever"

The redhead snorted.

"Hopefully and Thomas Wayne is the one," she said as she patted his shoulder. Grace turned around and went to the kitchen. Arthur followed her with his gaze, appreciating the sway of her hips and once she disappeared into the kitchen, he took the remote control and silenced the channel.

Arthur ignored the television, resumed his curiosity to the redhead's home. He started his walk and the pink color of the walls bothered in his eyes, trying to ignore the tone. He kept looking and something caught his attention. He stopped his walk and approached a small ledge with several photographs. Arthur looked at all the photos that adorned the shelf, in the pictures a family was appreciated; they were Grace's family. Black and white photographs showed a happy family. There was the father, the mother, a boy and a girl, who was she, they seemed to be on vacation at the beach. He kept looking many photos were Grace being a girl next to with a small boy. He did not stop looking until he stopped the sight in a photo of a young man dressed in army uniform, carrying his rifle with honor and detonating his manhood and majesty to be part of the army. Arthur knit his brow at how coarse and elegant that boy looked.

"He's my brother," he listened at his side. Arthur shuddered and removed the cigar, observing the redhead who was smiling wistfully. "Peter; he fought in the Vietnam War. He died nine months after joining the army. That was his last photograph; he was twenty-two, when that happened. "Arthur swallowed hard, he didn't know what to say." Peter was my dad's pride. When he entered the army, happiness did not fit in my father's chest until the news of his death came. After that, my father changed radically and died a year after Peter. Dad dropped a lot and decided to die, leaving my mother and me alone. Since then I took care of my mother, working as a secretary in many places, until I arrive at the post office and there, I'm been working four years old."

An awkward silence sheltered them. Arthur swallowed hard, thinking what he could say but no good words arrive to his head. Grace continued smiling wistfully, brought her hand to her guest's arm and looked at him deeply.

"Do you like macaroni cheese and pork ribs?"

"You said that you're not good at kitchen."

"I hope no poison you," Both smiled.

"I like it," Arthur said.

"Great!" She exclaimed in her typical mood. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Grace turned around and went back to the kitchen.

* * *

Both had dinner, in the background they listened to Murray Franklin, laughing and enjoying the show. Grace and Arthur shared the same passion for watching that program, upon discovering that Grace also loved it, it had been wonderful for him. He was adding an interest that he only shared with his mother

"You know what?" Grace said, Arthur paid attention to her. "Have you heard about a bar called Pogo's?"

"Yes, I've heard a lot about it. The best comedians in town have come out from there"

"That's right," She said as she took a piece of bread. "Haven't you considered going there?"

"To Pogo's?" He asked surprised. Grace affirmed quickly. "N-no — I mean, I couldn't."

"It would be good for you, Arthur. Many comedians go through Pogo's and their videos are shown in the Murray show. If you are lucky, your presentation can help you get to the show and impulse your career." Arthur's smile came from ear to ear, the support Grace provided had given him incredible motivation. And it was strange to feel that way but at the same time it did him good.

"I would have to improve some monologues."

"If you need to do it, do it. And when you are ready, you can go to sign up for Pogo's. You know I fully support you, Arthur."

Fleck felt his chest rejoice in a fabulous jubilee. Having Grace's support motivated him enough to perform such an action and the idea of going to Pogo's was more intense that past occasions.

Arthur watched the time, he had to go home. Grace prepared a plate of food for Fleck's mother, Penny.

"I hope your mom likes it."

"You really shouldn't have."

"No problem, you do not prepare snacks for tomorrow. Do you like the dinner?" She asked with a curiosity, almost childish.

"I loved it. It was delicious. I had not eaten like this for a long time."

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied harmoniously. "Thanks for joining me, Arthur. And when you want to come, you know where I live."

"Thank you ... for everything," he said, from the depths of his being.

Grace smiled broadly, approached him and kissed his cheek. Arthur felt the warmth of those lips on his skin and caused an electrifying sensation throughout his body. An impulse had emerged to move his head a little and place his lips on hers, but he stopped, accepted that kiss on her cheek and she, detonating a seductive air and smiled at him.

"I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course, it is," he replied, as he turned around to walk to the elevator.

Grace leaned against the doorframe and without hiding some mischievousness on her face, followed Arthur with her eyes, until he entered the elevator. She came back in her apartment and prepared to clean the kitchen and Arthur was overwhelmed in a joy he had never experienced in his life, thanks to the affection Grace showed and the admiration of a people for him actions. And he liked to feel in that way.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	6. Chapter VI

**VI.**

"Grace, don't you find the guy you're dating a little weird?" Asked one of her workmates. The redhead, who was eating a donut, stared at her and knit her brow. "I'm sorry?"

"What you heard me. That man you go out with, you don't find him a little weird?"

"Arthur?" Weird?" She asked a little bit annoying. "No way! It's something reserved, yes, but it's not unusual."

Her workmates looked at her peculiarly and she continued with her lunch.

"One of the guards told us he has a laugh, somewhat peculiar and loud. Do you know why he laughs like that?"

"No," she replied sternly.

"No?" Asked another one. "You're dating him, and you don't know the reason for the laugh?"

"He will tell me when he feels confident enough. And when he does, I won't tell you." Grace turned around and resumed to typing of her typewriter.

The women observed her with some mockery and resumed their work, listening as the redhead typing strongly.

* * *

It was the departure time. Grace left the building and looked for Arthur everywhere until she found him at the newspaper stand, looking at the front pages.

"Hello," she sweetly greeted. He turned to see her and answered the same way. "What happened today in Gotham City?"

"A protest of clowns," he replied without avoiding a wide smile.

"Protest of clowns? Why?"

"They protest to the rich for ignoring the poor — for ignoring us all."

Grace held Arthur's arm as she looked at the headline. The photograph showed people with masks and clown makeup, raising signs with threatening ideas and illusions. Arthur felt how she squeeze his arm, showing fear.

"What happens?" He asked.

"It's all this situation. Every minute that passes the violence grows; it seems to have no end. From the subway incident the situation worsened."

"And it may be worse," he confessed. Grace watched him and got more attached to him. "Let's wait and no. We could not with so much."

"Maybe we will"

"Arthur," she called, "are you in favor of these protest?"

"I'm apolitical, Grace. But the inevitable cannot be avoided." She nodded softly and put her chin on his arm. "It is beginning to get dark."

"It is true! Can we get to buy a cake?" Arthur shrugged. "What kind does your mom like?"

"Chocolate."

"Well then, a chocolate cake will be."

Both showed their best smiles and walked to the bakery store. Grace bought the best chocolate cake she could found and the two made their way to Arthur's home.

They were walking down the street when Grace paid attention to the huge, long stairs; she watched them in amazement as she had never seen any like this, or at least there was no such thing on the side of the city where she lived. Arthur noticed how amazed she looked and how she contemplated those stairs that were part of his daily routine.

"Hey?" He called. She looked down at him with a nervous smile. "Do you go up and down here every day?" He nodded. "It is tired?"

"In time you get used to it."

The two began to walk as the sunlight disappeared to welcome the moon. They climbed the long stairs and a few more steps they reached the building where Arthur lived. Both entered and before going to the elevator, Arthur went to the mailbox in search of his mother's everyday request. It was empty.

"Do you have problems with the mail?" She asked inquisitive.

"It's nothing serious," he said as he closed the mailbox.

Arthur walked away and led Grace to the elevator. They waited patiently to reach the floor and once the doors opened, Grace felt her heart want to leave her chest. She was nervous, she would meet Arthur's mother and she would not know how the woman would take her presence. They arrived at the door, she did not know when it was opened, and Arthur greeted his mother.

"Happy, I'm glad you arrived!" Grace listened in the background and swallowed hard.

"I brought a visitor," he said, as he placed his coat on the coat rack and gestured for the redhead to pass. "Happy?" She asked quietly.

"A long story."

"It sounds pretty."

"Happy?!" Exclaimed his mother from the living room.

"I'm coming, ma!"

Grace quickly entered the apartment; Arthur closed the door and took her from her waist to present her to his mother. Penny Fleck, who was lying in the individual couch, was watching television gladly. Arthur appeared next to a woman with long reddish hair, who wore a long brown skirt along with a canary yellow blouse, hanging a light pink bag on her arm and a cake in her hands.

"Happy?" She asked weirded out.

"Mom, she's Grace Davis, the woman I had told you about."

She smiled nervously.

"Good evening, Mrs. Fleck. It is a pleasure to meet you." Penny blinked in bewilderment; she could not believe her eyes sees. "Happy, you never told me about her."

"Yes, I did, ma. On several occasions."

"Why I don't remember her?"

"Because you only remember what suits you, ma."

"Arthur," Grace whispered, "don't talk like that, is your mother, it's not a problem."

"Claire?" Penny said, feigning confusion.

"No, Mrs. Fleck, Grace," she replied nervously.

"Oh, yes! I'm sorry, I'm terrible for names."

"Don't worry, Mrs.," she replied to the old blonde woman. "I brought you a chocolate cake. Arthur told me that it is one of your favorites."

"Happy, dear, could you store the cake in the refrigerator?"

Arthur snorted and Grace, even with her nervous smile, handed him the cake and obeyed his mother. In a panic, the redhead returned her look to Penny.

"Liz," she called.

"Grace, ma'am."

"They are similar," she said with an intimidating smile. "Take a seat, dear. Happy won't be long." She obeyed and took a seat next to Penny, who never looked away from her. The redhead smiled shyly, waiting for Arthur to harmonize the place. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

"You look bigger." Grace smiled awkwardly; she knew Penny Fleck had not liked her. "Maybe it's because of your whitish complexion."

"Can be."

Arthur arrived and took a seat next to the redhead, feeling the tension in the air.

"Happy, when did you tell me about Clara?"

"It's Grace," he corrected. "I told you about her several times also I told you that she would come to meet you."

"Oh!" She exclaimed with a mock smile. "Soon Murray show will start, will we have dinner?" The redhead moved her eyes with Arthur. "We have cake," he said with a big smile.

Grace ate little of her cake meanwhile Penny enjoyed it entirely; Arthur had not tried any bites. The three watched the Murray Franklin show who always bring them out a smile when he mocked the situation in the city. The program went to commercials and the women had nothing left to talk.

"And you work, Clara?" The redhead closed her eyes. "Yes, Mrs. Fleck."

"Where?"

"At the city post office." In response, Penny looked at the redhead unexpectedly. "The city post office?" She repeated, without believing it.

"Aha," Grace replied curiously. Arthur looked at the moment, closed his eyes and sighed exhausted.

Penny Fleck's hostile countenance changed drastically to a sweet one, Grace noticed but decided to save herself.

"What are you doing at the post office?"

"I am a secretary. I am dedicated to making forms and orders for sending letters and parcels."

"Are you on the alert for delivery and shipments?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"You know, I've been sending letters to Thomas Wayne —"

"Ma," Arthur interrupted.

"Happy, let me talk," she expressed angrily. "As I was saying, I have been sending letters to Thomas Wayne, but I never receive an answer. I have come to think that my letters are lost, or the mailmen are not carrying them."

"Oh well, Mrs. Fleck. I could check your shipments and investigate if your letters are sent or not."

"Grace ..." Arthur pleaded.

"It's ok, there is no problem. I can investigate, Mrs. Fleck."

"Thank you very much, Grace," she said with a big smile on her face.

The redhead was surprised at the pronunciation of her name, turned to see Arthur and showed him a big smile; Grace knew that somehow, she would win his mother and she succeeded. Grace celebrated with a slight gesture and Arthur smiled softly. Murray's show returned from commercials and the three continued to have dinner and enjoy the program.

* * *

Days passed, Arthur and Grace were in the latter's house. They both lay on the couch but paid no attention to the television.

"So, you will go to Pogo's?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yes," Arthur confessed with a nervous smile. "I was encouraged."

"Fantastic! And have you done a monologue or something?"

"Yes. I've been writing and looking for inspiration from many sides."

"Good, Arthur! I am very happy to hear it. Have you already practiced?"

"I am in that. I know I become nervous."

"It's just a matter of relaxing, being calm ... Have you ever imagined the public in underwear? I know it's a silly idea, but it can work, so you don't feel so nervous."

"I will consider it," he said as he lowered his gaze. "Grace, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Arthur's hands began to shake, Grace noticed and looked at him a little strange.

"Would you accompany me to Pogo's?"

A warm-hearted smile appeared on the redhead face.

"Of course, Arthur! I will be there to support you, you know perfectly.

"Thank you ..."

The redhead pounced on him and hugged him. Arthur froze for a few moments, then raised his arms and accepted the warm hug.

* * *

The day at Pogo's came. Arthur was trembling, reading his notebook and the jokes he had prepared while waiting for his turn. Deep down he felt the urgency of running away without looking back, but he could not waste his chance and disappoint Grace, who had supported him unconditionally.

The person who had entered before he was almost to finish. Arthur felt his legs turn into jelly, the option to flee was strong, but the behind-the-scenes staff signaled him to prepare. There was no turning back.

He walked down the wide path to the stage once he heard his presentation. The light from the reflectors fell on his eyes. He felt heat, maybe it was his nerves, or it was the light emanating from those huge bulbs. He looked at the audience, their faces were blurry and dark and, in the bottom, in a single table he distinguished that reddish hair and thanks to the light of the reflectors, it looked lit like fire.

Arthur smiled, nerves took over him and his laugh was his first presentation. In the escape of that laugh, Arthur brought his arm to his face, preventing his laughter from ruining his moment. He watched the audience, no one seemed to mock or be surprised by that laugh and it was a point in favor. Arthur anxiously opened his notebook, ready to start his monologue.

Grace showed her best smile, hoped that Arthur could control herself or, perhaps, his laughter was part of her show. It did not matter; Arthur would give a great show and there was no doubt about that. Arthur began his monologue, the laughter was not yet controlled, however, seeing some thin lines on those audience's faces, he seemed to relax. His jokes began to flow, and the laughter of the public flooded his ears. I was doing it; I was conquering the people. And that laugh faded away.

* * *

"You did it, Arthur! You did it!" Grace exclaimed once she arrived behind the scenes.

"Really?" He asked in amazement.

"Yes, you made the audience laugh. They liked your show."

Arthur smiled broadly and Grace congratulated him with a kiss on his cheek. After that congratulation, the anxieties and adrenaline that Arthur wore made him place his hands on the redhead's face and he joined his lips to hers, releasing all those emotions. Grace was a little surprised for what happened, however she got carried away, liking the kiss that Arthur had given her.

They parted their lips, and both looked at each other, straight in the eye. Grace's cheeks turned red like tomatoes and a nervous giggle was her response. Arthur also smiled, joined his forehead with hers and with his thumbs caressed those delicate cheeks, which were felt warm for her feelings.

"Thank you," he whispered. Grace brought her hands over his and kissed him again with tenderness and warmth.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	7. Chapter VII

**VII.**

Arthur and Grace walked along the busy sidewalk. The two smiled, talked about the moment in Pogo's and enjoyed the freshness of the night. For the first time Arthur felt pride throbbing in his chest, it was a fright so satisfying that he could not explain it. He watched the redhead at his side, hugging his arm, talking and laughing as she used to. Arthur's responses were to smile, demonstrating how happiness bathed over him and shone a different light. It was no longer opaque or dark, it was bright, and it was thanks to the support provided.

"Let's buy something for dinner. What about a pizza?" Grace gushed. He let out a slight laugh.

"Whatever you like."

"What do you like more? Pepperoni or ham?"

"Pepperoni doesn't sound bad," he said smilingly.

"Okay, Mr. Fleck, a pepperoni pizza will be."

They found an Italian restaurant, stocked dinner and went straight to Grace's house.

* * *

Upon arriving in the neighborhood, Grace noticed a family car parked in front of her edifice. She stopped suddenly, Arthur get concern and looked at her strangely. The radical change in her face and the trembling of her body was a sign that made her uncomfortable.

"It's all right?"

She swallowed hard.

"I'm afraid not." Grace approached him, put her hand to his arm and looked at him with hazy eyes. "Richard is here." The strangeness transformed into a tense face; each muscle contracted with rage. "Let me see what he wants," she continued nervously, "I won't be long."

"I'll go with you," he released immediately, detonating firmly.

"I don't want to get you in trouble, Art ..."

"No," Arthur interrupted. "I will go with you," he insisted.

Grace looked at him in amazement, she nodded and they both entered the building. The elevator ride turned out to be eternal, however Grace noticed how serious Arthur was and that worried her too much. The doors opened, the two went out and she saw her ex-couple, sitting in front the door of her apartment. The woman armed herself with courage and approached at an accelerated pace.

"Richard!" She called. He looked up and discovered his girl next to a squalid and graceless man.

"Wow, wow," he released as he lifts. "So, it was true."

"What the hell do you want?" Grace asked furiously.

"I wanted to see, with my own eyes, the fact that you were already dating someone else," he said, glancing at Arthur.

"What's it to you if I'm dating someone or not? You and I are nothing anymore. I thought that was clear."

"Did you really change me for this guy?" He demanded, still looking at his companion. Arthur remained calm while he had the food in hand. "Come on Grace! What terrible tastes you have."

The redhead sighed fed up and turned to look at Arthur, who had averted his gaze a little.

"Get the fuck out here, Richard."

"I'm not leaving here, Grace. Not without first talking about your little friend."

Another sighed came, she turned around and approached Arthur to take him from his arm and get into her apartment. He watched the redhead curiously and turning Richard aside, took out her keys and opened the door.

"Grace!"

"Go to the hell!"

She opened the door made Arthur pass first and, about to enter, felt as he held her arm. She glanced at the rage Richard detonated.

"No. Grace, honey, you do have a magnet to attract strange people."

"Let me go," she whispered worriedly, trying to get out of his grip.

Arthur dropped the food as soon as he saw that man violently holding Grace. He came over and brought his hand over his.

"Excuse me, this is a private talk."

"Let her go," he demanded, forging a firm tone but detonating his nerves.

"Seriously? He asked sarcastically. "Well, as I want to talk with you, I will. Thanks for joining us." He let Grace's arm off and she stuck to Arthur. "Your little boy, Grace, is a very abnormal man."

"Richard, shut up ..."

"I heard about your sudden laughter," he continued as he turned to look at him. "That's not normal." Arthur felt something get stuck in his throat, it was his laugh. It wanted to get out, it wanted to explode. He brought one of his hands to his face and turned his gaze aside. Concerned Grace approached him and tried to assist him. "Fuck damn it, Grace!" Richard shouted. "What does that bastard have for you to be with him?! He is crazy!"

"Fuck Richard, get out here!" She shrieked. "I told you I didn't want to see you again!"

"And you also intend to kill me?" He mocked. "You told me that when you threw the ring at me, that you would kill me." The redhead's green eyes covered in tears; Arthur's laughter flooded the hall and anguish contracted in his face. "Arthur, let's go in," she said, as she assisted him.

"You are a stupid and weak Grace, you always were. You prefer a moron and unbalanced before than me, a man who always gave you everything."

"You only gave me misery, Richard. Arthur," she whispered once she managed to place him in the doorframe. His laughter did not stop, he tried to cover it but every time it increases, making that some neighbors leave their homes.

"Do you see the scandal you are making?"

"That's what you are doing! And go away or I'll call the police."

Richard crumpled the redhead again; her grimace of pain was inevitable, and she tried to defend herself. He fed up with the laughter of that guy, approached him and punched him in the face, causing Arthur to fall to the ground without stopping laugh.

"Arthur!"

Seeing him fall, Grace kicked Richard in the shin of his leg, he shouted and released the redhead. She approached Arthur and as she can, she lifted him. They entered the apartment and she closed the door. When the door had been closed, Richard limped forward it and slammed the wood. Terrified Grace approached her phone; Arthur watched her and tried to say something, but it was inevitable. She tried to call the police, nevertheless she heard Richard stop his blows and surprised approached the door to watch through the peephole and discover that her neighbors had done their best to get him out of the building.

The redhead sighed gratefully and when she noticed the laughter she turned around and approached Arthur. His laughter was uncontrollable, she stepped to his side and brought her hands to his cheeks, discovering an open wound on his right eyebrow. Grace hugged Arthur, who brought his hands to her arms, and waited for his laughter to control.

* * *

Grace brought her medical kit, sat next to Arthur and filled a cotton swab.

"This ... this is going to burn," she said, with immense sorrow. He did not say a word, a gentle nod was his response and Grace approached the cotton to clean the wound on her eyebrow. She watched as Arthur closed his eyes, and his muscles around tensed at the contact of the wound and the alcohol. "I'm so sorry," she confessed. Arthur opened his eyes and looked at her out the corner of his eyes. "I'm sorry, I only brought you troubles." He let out a sarcastic snort. "That is the least of my problems."

"I only hope that moron rots in hell." Grace removed the cotton and blew lightly at the wound. "You won't need stitches, that's good. A small gauze will serve." Grace began to save what she had taken to find the gauze and Arthur looked at her peculiarly. "Why don't you ask?" He let go. She looked up and noticed his seriousness.

"I'm sorry?"

"Why didn't you question me about the laughter?" He asked, looking anxious.

She pulled out a few gauzes, closed the medical kit and prepared to play with them. The attitude that the redhead had taken surprised Arthur, feeling a worry all over his face.

"Arthur ... if I've never asked you about your laughter, it's because it's very intimate and I know it's something that is part of you. I do not want to bother you, throwing you endless questions. What I want is that, when you feel enough confidence with me and you be ready, you'll tell me the reason of you laugh."

Slowly the tension that came from his face was lightening at that revelation. Grace raised her glance and looked at him with a sweet smile. She raised her hands and set out to cover the wound. Arthur had not stopped looking at her for any moment and she knew it, the weight of his gaze was strong, more than she had ever believed. Grace finished placing the gauze and handed him a piece of cotton to clean his nostril, where a thin thread of blood drained. Arthur took it and brought in there; he never took his eyes off her. Grace smiled wistfully, ducked her gaze and began to stretch the edges of her skirt. The atmosphere was covered in discomfort and both were drowning in it.

Arthur lowered the cotton, looked at the reddish spot that had been removed and left it on the table. Grace noticed his action but did not look up and continued to stretch her skirt until Arthur's hands were placed on her face. She felt like he wanted to lift her, she did not resist and let him move her chin to face him. They both looked at each other, green eyes and clear blue eyes looked deeply. Arthur approached her and kissed her. Grace blinked calm and began to guide herself through that kiss while raising her hands to place them next to his.

For a few seconds they parted their lips to get some air, the redhead smiled delicately as Arthur returned to join his lips. His kiss was becoming passionate and the temperature of their bodies increased. Arthur lowered his hands and brought them to Grace's waist while she placed hers on his chest. They separated again and Grace, with a playful smile, looked Arthur in his eyes. Both were breathing agitated and the heat of their bodies asked to continue.

"A-Arthur," she called. He looked at her, their panting breaths betraying them. "My... My bedroom..." he nodded quickly and they both rose.

Holding their hands, they headed to the room. Grace closed the door and quickly turned to kiss Arthur again. He accepted the redhead without protesting and brought his hands to her posterior, making her let out a slight moan with a smile which he accompanied. The redhead placed her hands-on Arthur's sack and began unbuttoning it. Arthur felt his blood flow at high speed, too much that he stirred something inside him, this moment was as different as he had lived with Sophie. He kissed the redhead again while they attached their bodies. Grace finished removing her sack and continued to take off his shirt, leaving Arthur's torso uncovered and discovering how thin it was; more than she imagine.

He interrupted her thoughts, carrying his kisses across her neck, a soft groan was her response and he placed his hands on her waist. Arthur raised his hands and began unbuttoning Grace's blouse. She noticed a slight trembling in his fingers; he felt accelerated and she brought her hands over his to calm him. Arthur moved away from her neck and looked at those hands, he swallowed hard, worrying that something bad had done but no, Grace looked at him sweetly.

"Everything is fine," she said and kissed him, making his hands stopped shaking. He began to unbutton her blouse and slowly discovered her body.

Her brassiere was exposed, Arthur did not look away and calmly raised his hands until he touched her breasts. The delicate sensation he perceived had ignited him. He joined his lips again and between that kiss, he unzipped her garment. Their torsos were exposed, their kisses did not stop, and their passion overflowed. Both finished removing the clothes that were in the way.

Arthur sat on the bed and Grace climbed on him. His hands roamed her curves, memorizing them with great pleasure. Her kisses were pure fire, igniting him obscenely. That redhead was the most comforting flame of his life and he was going to take care of not extinguishing it.

Arthur took her from her back and head, gathered her to him and carried her to the bed. Grace looked at him with a big smile as she stroked his hair. There was a pause, he looked at the woman who kept smiling and playing with his hair and Arthur raised his hand and stroked her colorful cheek, thinking for a few moments that this was not real. He felt the flesh, the lavender perfume penetrated his nose and the softness of her lips had tattooed on his body. He kissed her again, she was real.

And the night became a paradise for both, one that neither had felt and that from now on would always share.

* * *

The only light that came from that room was the cigar that Arthur smoked; Grace hugged him and slept curled up in his chest. What had happened between them was the most rewarding and splendid experience they had ever lived. However, there was something that bothered Arthur and it was not their experience, it was something in his head that had not stopped bothering him once the redhead fell asleep. For two hours she had been resting in his arms and her mind had not stopped thinking about what happened with Grace's ex-couple.

He thought his mind had eliminated him, but it was not. His mind martyred him for what happened and the teasing and offenses of that Richard. He took the cigar in his mouth and gently put Grace on a pillow. He lifts from the bed and looked for his clothes; he put on his underwear and his pants and left the room as calmly as possible. He turned on the lights and went in search of his belongings. Arthur approached the table and among his things he found his cherished notebook. He sat down and read its contents; he looked at his joke section and read the ones he had used in his presentation at Pogo's. He read them with a smile and willing to expand his jokes, continued writing. Inspiration seemed to have hit him but when he wrote, he knew that mother of ideas was not for his new jokes, it was because the afternoon events.

_"He is crazy! It is a phenomenon! A jerk! Moron!"_ And thousands of offenses were pronounced in his head.

_"The worst part of having a mental illness is that people expect you to behave as if you DON'T." It was what his mind shaped and his hand described._

* * *

At the first rays of sun that entered through her window, Grace woke up. She looked confused at her bed and discovered that Arthur was not there. She got up terrified and looked for her intimate clothes and pulled a robe from her closet. The redhead opened the door and discovered Arthur with his head and arms placed in her dining room. She approached him and brought her hands on his shoulders, waking him with some alteration.

"Arthur?" She called nervously. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed there. "You're ok?" She whispered. He nodded and noticed his notebook. He closed it, hoping she had not read it. Grace kissed his temple and rubbed her hands on his arms. "You want breakfast?" she murmured with a big smile. She looked happy, more than usual.

"No... No," he replied, bit sleepy. "I must go home."

"I see. If you want to take a bath before you go." And she planted another kiss in his temple.

Grace dropped her hands and walked into the kitchen. Arthur looked amazed and, despite his internal conflicts, a smile was drawn on his face.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	8. Chapter VIII

**VIII.**

"Arthur, I have something to inform you," his doctor speak.

He smoked, seemed to ignore his psychiatrist, removed his cigar and watched the woman.

"You never listen, right?" He spit. She stood firm. "You only interrogation the same questions every week. How is your job? Have you had negative thoughts?" He stopped, brought the cigar back to his mouth and inhaled.

"Arthur ..."

"All I have are negative thoughts. And despite that, all my life, I never knew if I really existed. But I know and people have begun to notice."

The doctor sighed exhaustedly, joined her hands together and ignoring the words of her patient, she looked at him firmly.

"This medical center is going to close. They cut our funds and, I'm sorry to say, but that includes your medication service." Arthur seemed to ignore the above. "The people who decided this usually have no importance to those who affect, even me. They don't give a shit."

Silence covered the place and Arthur's response was a thin smile.

* * *

Arthur's lazy steps revealed his pessimism. The sun was close to hiding and he forged that daily routine he had adopted to pick up Grace after her work. While outside the building and in search of a cigar, Arthur prepared to read the newspapers, being part of his new tradition. Thomas Wayne appeared in the headlines and a little envy arose from not seeing the notes on his act at the subway station, he read the controversial statements of the future candidate for mayor of this city. Wayne, before the murder of his employees and the rebellion that the people were doing, had the great audacity to refer to the next to elect him as mayor, as clowns. They were all clowns and not in a good way.

Arthur brought the cigar to his mouth and cynically mocked Wayne's words. A clown had killed three men who worked for him, a clown had raised the masses and, although his words were malicious, Thomas Wayne did not imagine that the weary people of this city would become clowns to make him see the rich who they were already exhausted from their abuses and disinterest.

"You are Grace's couple, right?" He listened, turned around and watched a senior man wearing a mailman's uniform. Arthur blinked quickly and finally nodded. "I'm glad to meet you, I'm Bob Kersh, a lifelong postman," he greeted as he extended his hand. Arthur reciprocated the greeting. "I work with her. She will take a while to get out, it's in a meeting and she asked me to let you know."

"Thank you," he replied, bringing the cigar to his mouth. He looked back at the newspapers but felt the man watching him. He looked at the corner of his eye and tried to ignore him.

"I like you," he said. Arthur did not avoid a surprise expression on his face. "Well, I like you to be with Grace." An arched eyebrow was his answer. "Ever since she is with you, she looks very happy and I'm glad she has a good man."

"Thank you?"

Mr. Kersh approached him and patted his shoulder. Strangely Arthur looked now with discomfort but at the same time he had liked that gesture. At that moment Mr. Kersh turned his gaze to the newspapers and read the headlines, a sigh emerged from him and redirected his gaze to Arthur.

"How do you see this situation? I really don't know if I feel good or bad for it." Fleck frowned. "Why?" He asked.

"Son, I've lived here since I was born. This city is not one of the best in this country, perhaps it is the worst, and now with what happened in that subway, the town has risen."

In that moment, the redhead appeared, she greeted Arthur with great enthusiasm and then Mr. Kersh.

"I see you met Mr. Kersh," the woman said smiling and hugging his arm.

"Yes, we were at it."

"That's correct, child. I told your boyfriend that I like him."

"Oh really?" She asked amused.

"Yes, I like you very much. You look a good man."

While the atmosphere was harmonizing, on the other side of the street a scandal was present. Everyone took their eyes to the front and discovered a group of people, with those famous clown masks, running frantically through the pavement. They diverted their way to the street and, with several signs in hand, raised them with the slogan: "We are clowns." Arthur's lips were forbidden to widen when he felt the grip that the redhead made on his arm. These people reached the pavement where the three were, they took steps backwards and watched as some of the guys stopped in front of them. They raised their banners and shouted:

"We are clowns!"

"Death to the rich!"

They turned and ran away still shouted.

"Well!" Exclaimed Mr. Kersh gracefully. "This is becoming a revolution."

"Are you in favor of this?" Asked Grace, somewhat terrified.

"I wouldn't say totally in favor, child. But this is what Gotham city needs."

"A people uprising?" Arthur murmured. Grace watched him confused.

"And it's likely to happen. Very likely."

"You believe it?"

"Grace, my dear, as I said to your boyfriend, I've lived in this city all my life and I've seen how the most powerful forget us. What is coming will be unforgettable."

Mr. Kersh removed his hat and said goodbye to the couple to return to the post office building. Grace and Arthur walked in silence, the redhead's nerves were afloat, it was impossible to hide them and sometimes he sought to control her with the best comforting words his mind could process.

* * *

At Grace's house, they had dinner. Both tried to make the conversation enjoyable, but it was very difficult, until she remembered something important.

"I forgot to tell you; I already checked the letters your mother sent to Thomas Wayne."

"Grace, you didn't have to do it," said something annoyed.

"No, it is not annoyance. I promised to your mom." She took her plate and got off her chair. "Do you want more?" He denied. "Dessert?" He thought for a moment and finally nodded. Grace smiled, took his plate and headed to the kitchen. "Pineapple pie?"

"It's okay." Grace left the dishes in the sink and went to get dessert in the refrigerator. "Well, regarding the letters," she spoke as she closed the door of the device, "if they are coming. Somewhat late but they arrive." Arthur raised both eyebrows, he did not feel surprised.

"I don't think you know why he doesn't answer."

"No, but to be honest, Thomas Wayne receives more than a hundred letters a day. Among them are those of your mother."

"I see." Grace arrived at the table with the pineapple pie pieces, handed him the plate and fork. "Now the hard part will be telling your mom. She always looks hopeful every time she gives me a letter."

"I'll talk to her."

"If you want, I can accompany you, when you have to tell her."

"No, don't worry. I will make her understand."

"Her insistence is fierce."

"Too much," he said, pecking at the pie. "And more in recent years."

"You know why?"

"My mother worked with the Wayne's when she was young. She didn't last long but she thinks Thomas Wayne can help us financially."

"I understand. Ah, Arthur, do you have strong economic problems?" She asked worried and he looked up. "Don't tell me if you don't want to, but if you need anything, please tell me. You know there is no problem."

"It's not necessary, thanks. It's just that my mother has always had that fantasy, and I don't know why."

Silence fell on them and they continued eating their pie. Given the discomfort created Grace sought the best way to break that silence.

"Franklin Murray will begin soon. Will you stay here to watch him?" Arthur ate his piece of pie and looked at Grace, whose cheeks turned a deep red because of her interrogation.

"Yes," he said with a slight smile.

* * *

The two lay on the couch looking at the Franklin Murray show. Grace was curled up in Arthur's chest, who hugged her. The two enjoyed the show and more Arthur, who fantasized about the idea appearing on that show. It was not a dream since the possibility had been raised following Pogo's. It was a dream for many years, ever since Murray had his program. There was something that captivated Arthur about Murray, something with a certain fatherly air.

Fleck wandered through his mind for a while, imagining the day that would appear on his show, being welcomed with open arms and with immense pride on his part, like any father with his son.

At the end of the show, Grace noticed how lost Arthur looked, she gave him a light pat on his chest, and he reacted.

"Everything is right?"

"Yes, yes," he said with a chuckle.

She answered that smile and lift to prepare a dinner plate for Mrs. Fleck. In what she was in the kitchen, Arthur walked around the living room to stop in front of the shelf of the photographs. He looked in detail at the photos of Grace's father and brother, contemplated how united they were. An envy suddenly sprouted.

He felt the redhead's arms over her waist and saw as she placed her chin on his shoulder and looked at him with her characteristic joy.

"You always look at my family photos," she said.

"It bothers you?"

"No way. It only catches my attention."

"You were a very pretty girl."

"And now I'm not pretty?" She asked falsely angry. Arthur smiled and laid his head on hers. "You are beautiful," he confessed.

She blushed and kissed him on the neck, shivering all over him.

"You don't want to stay?" She asked in a sensual tone. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid not today."

"I wanted to repeat last night," she revealed, close to his ear. Arthur felt the adrenaline rush his body. Since that first night, both had shared intimacy repeatedly. "Tomorrow night I'll stay here."

"It's all right," she said and kissed his lips. "I've prepared food for your mom."

"Thank you."

* * *

Despite the good dinner, the love of his couple and a wonderful night, Arthur's spirit continued to crawl on the floor to remember his end of social security. He kept misinformed his mother and for Grace still had not revealed such a thing, he did not want to worry them. He climbed the long stairs, arrived at his apartment, without bothering to check the mail and found his mother asleep in the couch. He assisted her to take her to her bed and once he laid her down, she told him about a new letter for Thomas Wayne.

"Tell Grace to send it, or you put it in the mailbox. But send it, Happy, it's urgent."

"Yes, ma," he said tiredly. "I will do it."

His mother's eyes closed again, and Arthur left the room. He reached the living room and looked at the gleaming ivory letter. The peculiar color covered his eyes and a temptation arrived at him. He had never read what his mother sent to Thomas Wayne and, to be honest, he did not think it was something important. While curiosity invaded him, he took the letter and burning in that behavior he opened it and read its contents.

Arthur's heart stopped pumping the blood, his body froze as he read, lowered his mother's handwriting, a revelation that finished splitting him in two. Arthur threw the leaves and went straight to his mother's room. Penny woke up horrified to see her son's aggressive attitude.

"Am I Thomas Wayne's son?!" He shouted nonstop. Penny left her bed terrified and ran to lock herself in the bathroom, fleeing her son's anger. "Ma!"

"I won't tell you anything until you control yourself, Happy!" Arthur brought his hands to his hair, mess up it and walked from side to side of the hall. "I'm calm, ma."

"I do not believe you."

"Really, ma."

The poor Mrs. Fleck leaned on the door and took a deep breath.

"We fell in love," she confessed, "when I worked for the Wayne family. It was a beautiful thing but the position and that prevented us from being together — In the end, Thomas forced me to sign some papers, to keep silent and ... and I —" she stopped and tears flowed. "Happy, I'm sorry."

Arthur closed his eyes, punched the wall and he left the place.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	9. Chapter IX

**IX.**

At the end of the sexual act, Grace rose to kiss Arthur while he covered her in his arms. They parted their lips and the redhead shone a big smile. They looked deeply and she discovered an anguish in Arthur's eyes.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly as she carried her fingers over his hair. "About what?" He pretended with a languished smile. "Arthur," she said uneasily. The redhead settled on the bed and at the same time he laid his head on her chest. She was surprised by his attitude. "Arthur," she insisted," you know you can tell me anything. More if it is something that worries you.

"It's nothing," he said, snuggling into her. "I do not believe you."

"Really, I'm fine."

At those words, Grace sighed sadly and brought her arms around him, seeking to comfort him with the affection she always gave him.

* * *

Grace was the first to wake up and she observed curiously Arthur, who slept deeply. At no time did he undo his hug and, by his slight gestures, seemed to have a conflict with bad dreams. She wanted to wake him up but something inside her prevented about it. She analyzed those faces and became more attached to him, hoping he would control himself. She discovered that her breaths were deep, and she was surprised for it or maybe she had not noticed. After a few moments, calmly, she got out of bed and looked for her intimate garment and gown. Arthur felt the slight movements, opened his eyes and woke up with the image of the long reddish hair. A slight smile was drawn for a few seconds, he turned around and brought one of his hands to his face to rub his eyes. Grace discovered those movements from the corner of her eye, turned around and glanced him.

"Good morning," she greeted with his typical smile. "Good morning," he said sleepily. "I will prepare breakfast. Would you like waffles and scrambled eggs?" He responded with a slight nod. "Good." She pounced at him and kissed his cheek. Grace smiled and got out of bed to go to the kitchen.

Arthur looked at her until her image disappeared, he dropped his hands on his abdomen and stared at the ceiling. Since he had discovered that his father was Thomas Wayne, something inside him broke. All his life he believed that his father was gone that he had abandoned him and his mother and now, knowing that his father was close to running for mayor of this city, a need to face him grew up in him. He placed his hands on his face and scrubbed them carefully, believing it was all a bad dream. Once he stopped a sigh came, he got out of bed and prepared to take a bath and get ready for the new day to come.

Following the morning routine, Arthur left the room and found that Grace was already preparing the table. She smiled at him and returned to the kitchen for the breakfast. Arthur walked and approached the ledge of family photographs and he observed, as usual, the photograph of Grace's father and brother; both detonating a wonderful union. Arthur's mind drew his face on Grace's brother and Thomas Wayne's in her father. A smile was reflected and believing what had created his mind, he turned to take a seat in the dining room.

Grace set the plates, sat down next to Arthur and they both had their breakfast. During a few moments of trivial talks, it occurred to him to ask her something he had not wanted to say before.

"Grace, how was your father and brother relationship?" The redhead finished chewing her waffle and passed it with a drink of orange juice. "Well, as I told you once, Peter was my dad's pride. For follow in his footsteps in the army."

"Was him your father's adoration?"

"Yes," she said as she nodded. "He loved us. I was the princess, but Peter was the king. I do not want to sound like I am jealous, but dad always showed his adoration towards him. Peter was everything and he was a good son and brother. I have no complaints about him only when we were children," she remembered with a smile. "We were always united." Arthur smiled. "I would have liked to meet him and your father too."

"You would've liked them. I'm sure of it." And she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. His response was a smile, the redhead continued having breakfast, but he stopped eating. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure Arthur, you know that."

"I have something important to do today and where I go it will take me almost all day. Could you take care of my mother before I get back?"

"Yes, don't worry. When I finish my turn, I will go straight to your house."

Grace placed her hand on his and with a cheerful smile she lighted the heavy day he would have to live.

* * *

Arthur left Grace at work. The two said goodbye, she wished him a splendid day and he did the same with a smile. When the redhead entered the building, Arthur began preparing for his long day but not until seeing his mother.

Arrived at home, Penny received him as was the custom and told her that he would have to make a lap that would last almost all day. Surprised Mrs. Fleck insisted her son for knowing where he would go; Arthur cheated on her with work things and saying that Grace would stay with her as soon as her finished his workday. In his wardrobe he looked for a few utensils that he used when he worked as a clown, his red nose and his wizard's wand would be more than enough. The few things he had investigated about Thomas Wayne's private life was that he had a son; Bruce, about eleven years old. That little one could be his half-brother and a strange sensation came him when he thought he had one. If he got to talk to Thomas, he was sure he would meet the boy and he did not want to make a bad first impression. Arthur got ready with everything he needed and left for the train station.

The area where the Wayne lived was the richest and most isolated in the Gotham metropolis; that place could be a small city, but its limits were part of there. Arthur bought his ticket, dispatched with today's newspaper and a light meal to endure the trip which would begin at half past two in the afternoon. While waiting he read the news of the day. His actions in the subway had been in the background, it bothered him to know that what he had done began to be forgotten by the media and he wanted more dissemination to reach more masses. However, remembering that many of the people in the city were in favor of his actions, made him feel less hate for what the media did.

Arthur threw away the bag where he had bought a salad sandwich and a bottle of soda and got rid of most of the newspaper, leaving a sheet paper with it. He folds it into four parts and put it in the bag of his sweater. He looked at the clock, was ready to get on the train. The trip he had taken did not compare at all to the subway of the city, this was impeccable, and he looked luxurious and addressed people of great category. Arthur was no one next to the people who traveled with him. He sat down where his ticket indicated and, anxious for the tour, took out that sheet he had kept and looked at the photograph of Thomas Wayne with his wife and son. He looked at the family, especially the patriarch, and cut the photograph to treasure it jealously.

* * *

The road was long, finding the house was not an easy task, however, Arthur found the gigantic Wayne's residence. While walking he observed in the fence and discovered the little son; Bruce, playing in the gardens. The boy did not look animated even playing in his little wooden house. Bruce felt the weight of a look, turned around and noticed Arthur. He was surprised for that man. They looked at each other for a long minute, seemed to analyze themselves and Arthur looked for ways to get his attention more. He bent down and took his red nose out of his things, put it on and get to see the boy with his sad smile.

Bruce blinked a little confused and Arthur began to walk amusedly. He followed him, the red nose captivated him, and he wanted to know more. They kept walking, Arthur's graceful steps drew a thin line on his face and when they reached the main entrance, they both looked better. The charm that Arthur showed not yet finished, made his magic wand appear and the tricks were present. The young kid observed everything curious until some flowers appeared on the wand. He took it, looked at them and Arthur knelt to be at his height, it was incredible the connection he felt with the boy. His brother. He could not believe it. It was something he had never imagined. Bruce looked reluctant, he knew he should not talk to strangers, however, a strange feeling sheltered him. Arthur brought his hands to the boy's face and taking his lips, raised them so that a great smile would show the happiness of seeing him.

"Young Bruce!" They heard. Arthur released the boy's face and observed a man approached the kid to keep him from his presence. "Hey, I'm sorry," he replied with a shy smile. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Arthur, Arthur Fleck. Penny Fleck is my mother." The anger disappeared and was changed for a terrible surprise. "No ..." he released. "I would like to speak with Thomas Wayne ..."

"That never happened," he interrupted. Arthur knit his brows. "I'm Sorry?" The man, who was the family's trusted steward, approached the gate and looked at Arthur with contempt. "Your mother is not ok. She is crazy. She invented everything."

"Excuse me?!"

"What you heard. Now, go away or I will call the... "At that moment, Arthur interrupted his words by taking him from the neck and began to strangle him. If he hated anything it was that people would say false against his mother. Alfred tried to let go of his grip, hit his arms while the little boy watched everything in horror and Arthur noticed. Terrified by the impression the boy would have of him, he released the butler and ran away from that residence, without looking back.

* * *

Grace concluded her way through those long stairs. Arthur was right, you eventually get used to them. She arrived at the apartment and Penny received her with a smile and questioning her about sending of her letters. Apparently, Arthur had not talked about it with his mother and preferred not to make mistakes.

"Your last letter came out this afternoon, Mrs. Fleck," she said with a smile. "Thank you very much, Grace, You're so good to me." The redhead kept her expression as she left her purse on the table. "Already having dinner, ma'am?"

"Not yet my dear."

"Do you want me to prepare dinner?"

"Will you make pasta?" She asked with some tiredness. She noticed and felt sorry for that. "No, not at all. I was thinking of hot sausages and mash potatoes. Do you like the idea?

"Sounds perfect. Everything is in the kitchen, my dear," she said as she resumed her seat in her chair. "Yes, thank you, Mrs. Fleck," the redhead replied awkwardly.

Grace picked up her hair in a ponytail and went to the kitchen, ready to prepare dinner. While the sausages were frying in the pan, a knock at the door surprised both.

"Is it Arthur?"

"Happy has his own keys, my dear. Could you go see who is calling?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry Mrs."

The redhead turned aside the pan and put out the flame, rinsed her hands and dried them on the apron she was wearing. She approached the entrance and opened the door, discovering two men: one thin and the other fat with a very intimidating attitude and wearing suits and raincoats.

"Good afternoon, is Arthur Fleck at home?"

"Who is looking for him?" Asked Grace, without hiding her concern. Both men raised their police badges. "We are Detective Garrity and Detective Burke of the Gotham City Police Department. We want to ask Mr. Fleck some questions. Is he at home?

"Police department?" She snapped terrified. "Miss," Detective Burke called. Is Mr. Arthur Fleck, yes or not, at home?"

"Who knocks on the door, Grace?!" Cried Penny from the living room. "I'm coming, Mrs. Fleck!" She replied, as serenely as possible. Grace looked back at the detectives with hate and terror. "Arthur is not at home."

"What are you from Mr. Fleck?"

"His couple."

"And Mrs. Fleck is ...?"

"Arthur's mother. Detectives, as soon as Arthur arrived, I will let you know that they searched for him and ..."

"Sorry Miss ...?"

"Davis. Grace Davis."

"Miss Davis, this is urgent, and we need to talk to someone, if possible, with Mr. Fleck's mother."

"Mrs. Fleck cannot attend you, her health is delicate and ..."

"Grace?" She listened behind her back and shocked she turned to see Penny. "Who are these men?"

"Mrs. Fleck ..."

"Mrs., good night, we are from the city police department and we are here to ask you some questions."

"Police department? Questions?" She asked confused. Grace walked away from the door and approached the woman. "What kind of questions?"

"About your son, Arthur Fleck."

"Happy? Did something happen to Happy?!" She exclaimed and felt the redhead carry her hands on her arms. "Calm down."

"No ma'am, your son is fine. Our questions are regarding other details."

"Other details?" Asked Grace.

"Yes. Did your son work at Mr. Hoyt's clown agency? The Ha-Ha Talent Booking?"

"Yes, my son worked there."

"Perfect. And can you explain us your son's sudden laugh condition?"

"Excuse me?"

"Detectives, what is this about?"

"Yes! Why do you want to know about my son?"

"Mrs. Fleck ..."

On that Penny's breathing became agitated and she brought one of her hands to her chest. Grace looked at her scared and insisted that she calm down, but the pressure came on her and without the redhead imagining it, she collapsed on the floor.

"Mrs. Fleck!" The detectives looked amazed now. Grace knelt beside her and sought to assist her. "Call an ambulance!" She yelled at them. And the detectives took out their communicators to ask for emergency assistance.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	10. Chapter X

**X.**

An incandescent light bothered Arthur's eyes, those ambulances outside his building had completely weirded out him. He thought that perhaps the young gangs had managed to injure a third party and if so, poor of the unfortunate. As he approached, he noticed the stretcher with a familiar dull blond hair, hurriedly he approached and looked at his mother. Behind the paramedics came a terrified Grace with her thin hands on her lips and her green eyes covered in tears. The redhead raised her red gaze and revealed a petrified Arthur, looking motionless at that scene. She went straight to him and took his hands.

"Arthur!" She exclaimed, without controlling his crying. "What happened?!" He demanded. "Some police officers arrived at your house and ..."

"Cops?" He asked, surprised and upset. The redhead nodded quickly and one of the paramedics turned to see them. "Does any of you know the Mrs.?"

"Me," he replied. "I'm her son."

"Come with us," he ordered.

Grace released his hands and Arthur gave her a quick look, she managed to tell him that she would go behind him on the road and he got into the ambulance, stunned to see her mother prostrated on the stretcher. The redhead did not stop shaking, she felt that her promise to attend to Penny had failed. She turned around finding out several neighbors had witnessed the moment not worried about the woman, just for morbid. The detectives moved away from the small crowd and approached Grace, who tried to evade them.

"Miss Davis," Detective Burke called. "I will not speak with you. If you excuse me, I have to go to the hospital."

She looked at them with immense anger and passed them by sideways, entering the building again looking for all her things.

* * *

Upon arriving at the hospital, Grace asked for Penny's reports at the reception. The nurse told her that Mrs. Fleck was on emergencies and her son was in the waiting room. She thanked her for that and went to find Arthur. She found him in the middle of the lonely seats, the smoke from his cigar wiggled in the air while his body seemed to be an inert figure. Grace sighed in anguish and began to walk towards him, who seemed to react to the thunderous sound of her wedge heel.

"Arthur," she called sadly. He looked up at the woman. "Arthur, I ..."

"What happened?" He interrupted her, in a sharp voice. He did not sound annoying, but its restlessness was evident.

Grace sat next to him, putting her hands on his arm and swallowed hard.

"The detectives arrived asking about you. I tried to dispatch them and prevent your mother from knowing about them, but it was impossible for me. They wanted to talk to you or a relative until your mother appeared at the entrance. Those detectives stunned your mother with questions and then she passed out." The redhead did not have the courage to look at Arthur. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"I promised to take care of your mother and I didn't."

"It's not your fault," he said as he held his free hand over hers. "They did it."

She raised her green gaze injected with blood. Emotions had hit her immensely and she could not stop crying. Arthur moved his arms and wrapped her in them to get her to calm down and while it was working, the doctor appeared informing them of the results. Penny had suffered a blood clot. The response of both was mournful and the doctor granted them access to the floor where Penny Fleck would be until he saw a recovery.

Arthur and Grace lay in a couch next to Penny, she slept and was piped to a monitor. Neither of them had dared to speak, they just waited. Arthur got up from the seat, causing Grace to let go his arm and she looked at him.

"I need some air. This place ... this place suffocates me."

"Okay, I'll be here."

Arthur nodded and left the room.

He sat down on a bench outside the hospital, lit a new cigar and watched the cold, empty night. While looking at a stalemate, his mind wandered in the fact that the police were looking for him. They knew it. They knew what he had done on the subway.

"Arthur Fleck?" He listened. He regained consciousness and looked at two men in front of him. "Are you Arthur Fleck?"

"What do you want?"

"We're Detective Garrity and Burke, maybe Miss Davis told you about us."

"Yes. Because of you, my mother suffered a stroke."

"We are very sorry; it was not our intention to provoke these incidents." Arthur brought his cigar to his mouth and ignored them. "Mr. Fleck, we need to ask you a few questions."

"About what?"

"Did you know about the murders in the subway?" He nodded. "How did you take that news?"

"How should I take it?"

"Mr. Fleck, could you tell us about your dismissal from the Ha-Ha Talent Booking? Your boss, Hoyt, told us about a gun."

"It was a prop weapon," he said. "I am a comedian."

"Seriously?"

"Hoyt must have told you."

"What about your laugh?"

"My laugh?"

"Yes, your boss told us about it. Is it a kind of disease or something?" Arthur got up, threw his cigar and watched both officers. "If you'll excuse me, I must go back to see my mother."

Both looked at him suspiciously, he walked until he hit in the automatic door.

"That's the way out," one of the detectives replied and Arthur came in after a nurse came out. "What the hell did that redheaded woman see on that guy?" Garrity questioned his partner. "I don't know, however, I'm sure he is our killer."

* * *

"I brought you a coffee," Grace spoke when she saw him enter. The redhead was next to Penny. "Thank you," he said as he approached to take it. "Is she still asleep?"

"Yes. The doctor says she needs to rest, and he'll check her in the morning." Arthur took a seat next to her and sipped his coffee. "You know? I was thinking about taking my vacation."

"Grace, you don't have to worry."

"No problem. The doctor says he needs a person to stay with your mother at night, I can do it. And in the morning, you are with her for a while and..." She stopped and a huge yawn made itself present. "I'm sorry."

"You look exhausted." She started to move her head and raised one of her hands. "No, no ... I suddenly felt very tired. I think it's because of the commotion today."

"Go home, I'll stay here today."

"I'll accompanied you, I don't want to leave you alone." Arthur snorted and a half smile appeared on his face. "Fine."

"I'm going to ask for my vacations early tomorrow," Grace continued as she suited her head on his shoulder, another yawn was present, and the redhead closed her eyes. "And I will go home ..."

She began to babble things without much meaning and Arthur frowned at how soon she fell asleep. He sought to suit himself in the small armchair in the room, so she could sleep, and he stayed awake, watching both women.

As time went by, Arthur noticed how the redhead's skin had bristled, she was cold. He took off his sweater as calmly as possible and placed it on her. As he watched at her with an incredible look of gratitude for her noble gestures, the sound of the TV brought him back. The music of Murray's show was what he perceived and turned to watch his favorite show. Murray arrived on the scene, his little monologue gave way to a joke about a guy, which to his liking was a lousy comedian, and showed the video of Arthur in his presentation at Pogo's. Astonished by it, he got up from the armchair and he was placed in the middle of the room, marveling at being on Murray Franklin's show. Pride did not fit in him, he achieved one of his biggest dreams.

"Grace!" He called "I'm in the Murray show!"

However, the redhead did not respond, she slept deeply.

_"And so, gentlemen, if you want to imitate me, this is the right way to not do it."_

At those words, happiness vanished so quickly from Arthur's face. Murray was making fun of him, not with him. The mockery of his presentation was the talk of part of the program and Arthur's dreams and illusions were destroyed in seconds. His idol, his role model almost his mentor, had ridiculed him.

The redhead turned on the couch, she half-opened her eyes and glimpsed Arthur standing down the TV.

"What happen?" She asked sleepily. Grace sat down and carved her eyes, finding out she had his sweater on her. "Arthur?" When she did not receive an answer, she stood up and approached him, putting her chin on his shoulder. The redhead noticed the tension on his face, his clear eyes revealed a grim expression. "Arthur?" She insisted worriedly.

He came back to himself, watched his couple and a forced smile was his response.

"Murray show has begun," he said. She shivered. "Something is wrong?"

Arthur denied it, turned around and came back to the armchair. Grace was surprised at the oddness of his attitude, she looked at the TV and Murray introduced the first guest of the night. She tried to find some connection of his attitude to the program, but nothing seemed to click. For seconds she thought that Arthur was waiting for his presentation to be displayed, she had already noted his anxiety about it on previous occasions, however, if it had been, joy would detonate on his face.

The severe attitude that was forged in him was reflected during the night, Grace put her head on his shoulder and took his hand to try to relax him a little, but it was impossible.

* * *

Early in the day, Grace went straight to her work to request her vacation, which it was given in a bad way. Completed her first task, she went home to take a bath and get ready for her night shift, in what Arthur was with his mother in the hospital.

As she prepared her new attire for the day, a strange sensation emerged. Grace put her hand on her chest and neck and swallowed hard. She thought that something had stuck in his throat but no, at passing her saliva a loud disgust reached her throat and she ran to the bathroom to vomit what she had swallowed. The redhead throws up her saliva and part of the coffee he had taken the night before for two minutes. The disgust she felt was terrible and she placed both hands on the toilet, thinking that she would faint for such effort.

Grace breathed agitatedly and with her trembling hand pulled the lever to disappear what she had vomited. She brought both hands to her face and she wait for that feeling to stop. She got up hard from the ground, her legs were trembling by her effort to vomit and prepared for the shower, hopeful that it would calm down what she had felt.

Finishing her routine, Grace had proposed herself to have breakfast but the feeling she had was still in and she put aside the food. She went to lie down for a while and wait for her to feel better.

* * *

Grace woke up and looked at the time, it was past noon and she had slept all morning. She woke up scared and got ready to go to the hospital. She arrived and upon entering the room, a nurse was attending Penny, who was still asleep.

"Hello," she greeted with a nervous smile. "Excuse me, is Arthur Fleck here?"

"Good day. Is he Mrs. Fleck's son?" The redhead nodded. "He came out, before I came to check her, maybe he's eating."

She nodded and decided to take a seat and let the nurse do her things. While the nurse was administering the medications and checking the vital signs, Grace felt the vomiting again. She brought her hand to her lips and tried to suppress her retching. The nurse looked at her and was surprised by the woman's attitude.

"Are you okay, miss?"

Grace looked up and nodded nervously. The nurse did not believe her and continued to her stuff while the redhead was breathing deeply. Feeling a little less the need to vomit, she lowered her hand but her breathing was strong, the sound of it flooded the room and unable to control herself more, Grace got up from the armchair and ran to the bathroom to vomit what she had in her stomach. The nurse looked at her surprised and heard the loud retching. Half a minute passed and when she finished, Grace left the bathroom and looked embarrassed at the nurse.

"I'm so sorry," she said, tired.

"Miss, excuse me for what am I going to ask you, but are you pregnant?" Grace's eyes almost left her orbit at that question. She quickly denied and took a seat. "Sudden vomiting is a common symptom."

"No, I'm not. I ate something that I didn't like," she replied with a nervous smile.

The nurse seemed not to believe her words, but she resumed taking care of her patient. Grace looked away and began to play with her hands, thinking about what she had just questioned. A nervous snort came out. Her period had not yet arrived, a couple of days were missing, but if it did not arrive, she would have to find out if a pregnancy were true.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	11. Chapter XI

**XI.**

Arthur entered the room and found Grace with a lost look and very pale skin, he approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder, she shivering as she regained consciousness.

"I'm so-sorry," he said worried. "No, no ... I got scared."

"Are you OK?" He asked. "Yes," she replied with a confident smile. "I just was thinking."

"About what?"

"My workmates. I hope they are doing everything right."

The wide line on the redhead's face tricked Arthur about the true feeling she carried with her. He took a seat next to her and they both looked at Penny.

"She woke up for a while and then went back to sleep."

"Is that good?"

"The doctor told me it was normal." He stopped and looked at her. "You arrived early today."

"Yes, I thought I was late."

At that moment, the doctor came to the room and, clearing his throat, got the attention of both.

"Sorry to interrupt you, could I speak with you, Mr. Fleck?"

Arthur responded with a quick nod, got up from the armchair and Grace stroked his hand in support. The doctor and Arthur left the room.

"Mr. Fleck," he spoke sternly. "I'm afraid I have to tell this, but insurance won't be able to cover his mother's medical expenses anymore." At those words, Arthur's gaze changed radically. "The approximate stay of his mother is two days and then we move her to an area according to what the insurance covers. I know this sounds tough and the treatment your mother needs is expensive, I could ..."

"All right, doctor," he interrupted. "I'll take care."

A wide smile was his last response. The doctor looked scared at Arthur, he nodded his head and turned around to resume his work. The smile remained on his face until the doctor disappeared in the hallway. Arthur returned to the room and took a seat next to Grace, who looked at him worriedly.

"Something is wrong?"

"The insurance will no longer cover the hospital," he said. She brought her hands to her face. "When does the service end?"

"In two days."

"My God ..." She whispers as she dropped one of her hands. "Arthur, I have some savings, it's not much but it can cover, maybe two more days your mom's stay in what ..."

"Grace," he said stiffly, "I already told you, you don't have to worry so much about it."

"Arthur," she snorted sadly, "my intentions are good. You know it," she said softly. "Accept the money I offer you."

"I couldn't pay you."

"No one talked about a loan. It is for the health of your mother. I've already been in your situation, and I know how difficult it is, more with this social security chaos." Arthur raised one of his eyebrows as she took his hands. "They are cutting a lot of funds," she continued. "That is not a novelty in this city."

"Did you know about that?"

"I heard rumors, but I know they are true. This is getting horrible. How dare they cut funds and insurance? It is unforgivable."

"Because they do not care about us, Grace. They have never done it."

The sadness overtakes the redhead and while they both looked at each other, she averted her focus her gaze on the TV, which was lay in silence, and noticed a peculiar news.

"Look," she said, pointing to the screen.

Arthur turned around and saw on the screen an angry mob of people wearing clown masks. He suddenly got up and turned the volume up to know what was happening in the city.

"A new protest march will be seen today in front of the Gotham history museum, where an event will be held for the city's businessmen, offered by Thomas Wayne. People, who are exhausted by the lack of resources in the city, will demonstrate at the time of the event to face the candidate of Gotham City, Mr. Wayne."

"I thought that was over," Grace said nervously. Arthur seemed to ignore her; his mind was working quickly to see all those protesters wearing their clown masks. "These protests become more and more violent."

"Maybe it's the only way they hear us."

"There are better ways."

"They have already been used," he continued as he turned around. "They have not heard us."

Grace tapped her chest, leaned back in the armchair and placed her gaze on Penny who slowly opened her eyes.

"Arthur," she called in amazement. He came over and looked at his mother.

Penny tried to smile but she failed to do it so moved one of her hands desperately looking for his son's and he answered her call. She looked at him, her eyes detonated anguish and happiness. Arthur smiled weakly as he saw her and thought it was time to look for Thomas Wayne and make him do what he had not done in thirty-five years of life. Support his family.

* * *

"I won't be long," he said as he put on his sweater. "I will go home and look for a person."

"Okay," the redhead answered, a little bit surprised. She did not want to hear herself gossipy but deeply she wanted to know who he would look for. "Be very careful. If you find a march or something, get away. Don't go into trouble they can hurt you."

Arthur smiled wryly.

"I'll be fine." He approached her and kissed her; it was reciprocated. They both smiled and as soon as Arthur was ready to leave the room, Grace stopped him.

"Hey...! I love you." Fleck's body froze and slowly his cheeks lifted. "Me too," he replied. He turned around and left the room.

* * *

Arthur watched all the commotion of people outside the museum. The euphoria traveled into his veins; that whole audience was there, thanks to him. He walked through the crowd and looked at the signs, the masks, the desperate howls and anger caused an emotion in him. He joined the moment and the more he walked the closer he got to security people. The policemen went out of their way to get those people out of the entrance, armed with the best security of the moment, they could not against the people. In a desperate act, one of the policemen hit one of the Protestants and they took the policeman, beginning to attack him fiercely. Arthur took advantage of the distraction to cross the safety lines and enter the museum through the employee area.

Once he found workers' clothes, it was easy to sneak away and he reached the projection area, where "Modern Times" by Charles Chaplin was exhibited. All the rich of the city was in there; the scent of the perfumes permeated the air, the sparkle of the jewels of the ladies shone in various sections of the place and the laughter, hummed in Arthur's ears. He enjoyed a little of the movie, he laughed; the father of the comedy was a source of inspiration for him, in that, his gaze turned to a box seat to notice Thomas Wayne with his wife.

Taking advantage of the moment he got up, Arthur got ready to follow him to the men's room. Inside the place, Arthur got rid of the uniform and approached him, ready to talk about his blood relationship. As soon as he mentioned the name of Penny Fleck, Thomas Wayne's face tensed incredibly.

"So, you were the guy who went to my house yesterday?" He questioned violently. "I ... I just want to know if ..."

"No. Your mom is crazy. She adopted you when she worked for my family and invented the story that I was your father."

"What?!" Asked Arthur in amazement. "Go to the Arkham psychiatric, and you'll know."

"No, my mother is not crazy ... You ... you are the one who..." He stopped; his laughter wanted to escape. "For God sake, look at us, we are be related!"

Without being able to avoid his laugh, it exploded, making Wayne uncomfortable and he responded with a blow to his face.

"Don't come near my son again," he said angrily.

Thomas left the place and Arthur took his hands to the sink, without stopping his laughter and he seeing as a few drops of blood fell on the neat porcelain.

* * *

Grace had bought a few jasmine and lavender to decorate the sad room. Penny lay awake, sometimes she wanted to talk but it was difficult to her. She raised her hand weakly and the redhead noticed it, leaving aside the decoration to attend to the woman. She pointed to a glass of water and she gave her some of it. Penny drank the water but almost it fell to the side of the pillow and Grace prepared to clean everything.

"It's okay Mrs. Fleck, you don't need to worry."

"Ha...? Happy?"

"He went home," she said with a smile, pressing the napkins over the puddle of water. "He promised to arrive early."

An anguished groan was her response, Grace kept cleaning until the nurse arrived to provide the medications.

"What happened?" She asked worriedly.

"I gave her some water. She could not ingest it all."

"I already have the new serum, miss, don't worry. I'll take care."

Grace thanked with a slight nod and took place in the armchair, she put both hands on her neck and gently massaged it. The nurse enrolled the medication changes and could see out of the corner of her eye at the redhead.

"How do you feel, miss?" She looked up her green eyes to her. "Fine. Tired but fine."

"Has you not vomited again?"

"No, not anymore."

The nurse nodded and finished placing the serum and medications. She gave Mrs. Fleck one last review and wrote everything on the board. Before retiring, she approached Grace and took a paper from her dressing gown and handed it to her.

"It's information in case you need an analysis." The redhead knit her brows. "Blood test, in case ..." The nurse made a slight nod and looked at her belly, Grace was surprised. "I will see you in a few hours, both need rest."

The young nurse left the room and Grace felt a fear run through her body. She had refused to believe about a possible pregnancy. Memories of her intimacy with Arthur came to her mind, they were never cautious, and her nerves betrayed her. It could not happen, it should not happen, not yet. She was not ready for a son; Arthur was not either. The situation did not lend itself to be able to raise a baby and she did not want to imagine what problems could be caused by a sudden pregnancy. Grace brought her hands to her belly, closed her eyes and prayed that her period would come soon to get rid of this fear that had been unfounded, although deep inside she sensed it. The feeling was there no matter how much she denied it.

Penny's slight groans made her come back to herself and she stood up to assist her in whatever Arthur returned from wherever he was.

* * *

A few hours passed and Arthur arrived. Grace noticed the slight blow on his face, and she looked worried for it, she approached him, placed her hands on his cheeks and analyzed him.

"Tell me you didn't run into a march."

"I'm afraid so," he lied with a cynical smile. "I will ask a nurse for assistance."

"It's already better. How she is?" He asked looking at his sleeping mother. "Really fine. They have treated her well." He nodded slightly. "Arthur," she called, "I know this is none of my business, but where did you go?"

"With an acquaintance to ask for help for my mother."

"And what happened?" He denied, moved away from the redhead and sat down, staring at his mother with melancholy. Arthur took out a cigar and lit it in what Grace sat next to him. "Tomorrow I will go for my savings, to postpone the days. I remembered that I have a colleague in the office that lends money, I can ask for a loan and..." She stopped, looked at Arthur and noticed how he ignored her. In his eyes she felt a deep disappointment. Grace hugged his arm and did not stop analyzing it. "Everything will be fine," she said. Arthur turned to look at him. "Do not despair."

"I'm calm. Seriously."

"Your eyes tell me otherwise. Arthur, I have told you many times if you want to tell me something, do it. Really, I will listen and understand you."

"I know but is nothing."

"I don't like seeing you like that, so depressed." He let out a half smile. "If you knew it," he confessed, as he held his hand over hers.

Arthur looked back at his mother and Grace looked at him in a worrying way. She clung to his arm and placed her chin on it, a sad sigh was her response as she thought it was what he had not wanted to tell her in all this time.

* * *

Both went down to dinner. The redhead was very hungry since the coffee she had ingested the night before she had not tasted anything again and more for fear to vomit. She looked at her plate, a chicken salad with French-fries and toast. Her stomach growled but the disgust returned. Arthur was eating hurriedly; he also had not had a chance to satisfy his stomach when he discovered Grace looking at her meal with repulsion.

"Won't you eat?" He asked strangely. She looked up and smiled. "Sure! I just thought about many things."

"I see," and he brought his last portion of french-fries to his mouth. Grace desperately sought to suppress her retching and drank some of her apple soda. "Will you eat your french-fries?" She denied and handed them over. "Grace, tomorrow I have to go pay a visit, it's very important."

"Do not worry. I will stay here."

"Probably take me all morning and part of the afternoon."

"Is it something very serious?"

"Yes," he replied dryly. "Okay, I'll stay here until you arrive," she said with her pretty smile. Arthur thanked with a nod and continued to have dinner. She kept watching him, tasted small portions of her plate and her mind hit her with the idea of pregnancy. "Arthur, do you like children?"

Fleck stopped abruptly and observed perplexedly his couple. Grace kept her pleasant smile and waited patiently.

"The children? They are lovely, yes, I like them," he replied somewhat confused, remembering the times he made several children laugh and remembered little Bruce. "That's lovely!"

"Why?"

"I think I never asked you. I always thought that, working as a clown, you liked children very much." Arthur shrugged and ate again. "Do not feel uncomfortable with this, but ... would you like to have your own children?"

Again, he stopped, his hand was in the air and began to tremble slightly.

_"Own children?"_ He thought terrified.

He had never imagined it, he never thought he would have a woman by his side and less have a son. A giggle escaped from between his teeth, the idea was wild and unimaginable, and Grace quickly changed her countenance.

"I had never thought about it," he said wryly, while he looked for his glass of soda. "It's something ... it's something strange. Why would the world want another Fleck?"

Grace carried her hair behind her ears as she listened to Arthur's light laugh, she nodded delicately and tried to eat, thinking of those last words mentioned.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	12. Chapter XII

**XII.**

Early in the morning, Grace went to the bank to request her savings to extend Penny's stay in the hospital. Upon leaving the building, she approached Arthur who waited for her outside the place.

"It's all ready," she said with a smile. Arthur threw the cigar on the ground and crushed it. "Why didn't you come with me?"

"I wanted to clear my mind," he lied, remembering who worked there. "Okay," she continued as she hugged his arm. "We can already go to the hospital."

Arthur nodded, they both walked to the bus stop and Grace clung to her bag. There was no reason to ask why it, the insecurity had worsened, and everyone take care of their backs jealously.

Arthur carefully watched the moment Grace made the payments; he only signed the necessary documentation. In the hallway to Penny's room, the redhead stopped, leaned against the wall and brought one of her hands over her face.

"Hey! You okay?" Asked Arthur worriedly. "Yeah ... I got a little dizzy." He approached her and took her by her waist. "I confess that I am little tired."

"Go home."

"I promised to stay here," she said as she patted his chest. "By the way, I know this is none of my business, but where will you go today?"

"I need some of my mother's documentation. I will not be late."

"Okay ... you know? I talked to my workmate, the one who makes the loans."

"Grace ..."

"Let me finish. She told me there would be no problem with it, just knowing how much we will need, the interests are not high. I can afford them." Arthur sighed bitterly, grabbed Grace and laid her head on his chest. She was surprised and hugged him. "Don't worry anymore, okay?"

He nodded gently and leaned his chin in her reddish hair, staying together for a long time.

* * *

As soon as Arthur left, Grace stayed in the room and Penny slept. The redhead sighed exhausted and ran her hands over her face, pulling her hair back. She kept thinking and bit her lower lip. Suddenly she went to her bag and took out the information that the nurse had given her yesterday. Grace read the content and undecided, thought about doing or not doing a blood test. She shook her head, refusing at such an idea and her mind repeated that her period would soon come. The redhead knocked the paper against her palm, in a frantic rhythm, deep down she wanted to have that test and control her nerves. While thinking about, the nurse came in to check on Mrs. Fleck and noticed how distracted she was.

"Good morning," she greeted. Grace reacted and nervously corresponded to the nurse. "Good Morning."

She smiled, subtly woke Penny and began to check her treatments and vitals.

"Everything is going great, Mrs. Fleck." The woman tried to smile; it was impossible for her. She raised her hand and tapped the nurse's arm. "Keep resting, Mrs." The nurse took her cart and before leaving Grace got up from her place and approached her. "Excuse me for stopping you like this, but I'd like to ask you, where are the labs?"

"They are on the ground floor, down the hall next to the reception. Did you dare to get tested?"

"Yes, yes," she whispered. Avoiding to Penny from perceiving their conversation. "I want to know if, I really ..."

"I'm glad to hear that. Go there, ask for everything you need for it and by three in the afternoon, you can do the analysis." The nurse smiled excitedly and left the room.

Grace sighed, turned around and came back her place, waiting for the right time to go to the laboratories.

* * *

Arthur did not believe what Thomas Wayne had said yesterday, so to find out who was telling the truth, he went to Arkham's psychiatric hospital, in the valley off Gotham City. During his walk, Arthur felt that this trip was a total waste of time, but he had to verify all the information to force Wayne to support him with his mother. He was not going to allow her to suffer more than she already did.

He got off the bus and he went on foot for the psychiatric. As he walked slowly, he tasted a cigar and stared at the blackened sky. The rain was about to fall. The streets were adorned with huge garbage bags, where families of mice were visible. Arthur's bitter snort echoed around him, causing the eyes of a few passers-by. He threw away his cigar and looked at the huge building. A strange family sensation prompted him. He swallowed hard and walked concerned there.

During his trip to the archives area, he met several patients made him show his best serious face. The screams, the meaningless words and the violence that they provoked, everything went unnoticed by Arthur. Everything was familiar. He walked down the huge hallway and saw a few other patients sitting, talking alone and a few with straitjackets. Everyone looked at him, some smiled at him and others had a void in their eyes. Arthur seemed to be one more of the place.

He arrived at the place and looked at the manager, who read the newspaper and ate some of his lunch.

"Hello ..." He spoke nervously. "Good morning," he replied as he lowers the newspaper, "how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for information about an old patient."

"How old?"

"Early fifties." The manager whistled surprised. "Almost thirty years. Wow ... what's the name?"

"Penny Fleck."

"Penny Fleck," he repeated as he wrote it down on a sheet of newspaper. "This may take time; do you think you can wait for me?"

"Yes," he said anxiously.

* * *

Grace watched the doctor who accommodated the test tubes cautiously.

"How efficient is the test?" She asked worried. "About ninety-eight percent efficient," he said with a broad smile. She blinked perplexedly. "Very rarely has one of blood test failed. There is also urine, but that takes more days."

"Someone advised me a lot about the blood one. Only that I never ..."

"I understand Miss. When we take a blood tube, the test takes a few hours for confirmation, but the results are greater. So, first time?" She nodded slightly. "Nervous?"

"Aha..."

"Calm down, miss. I need you relaxed because injecting the needle, it could hurt you."

The doctor cleaned her forearm with alcohol and the scent was impregnated in Grace's nostrils. He placed the needle in her vein, and she felt a strong pain, as if she had been split in two with a nail. He asked her to relax and she clenched her eyes, yet it was hard for her to feel calm. He took out the needle and sealed the test tube.

"Bend your arm and hold firmly," the redhead obeyed. "Come in about four hours and we will have the result."

"Thank you," she finished, rising and taking his bag.

Grace left the site, leaned on the wall and took a deep breath. Feeling a little better, she went to the room to continue taking care of Mrs. Fleck, and as she walked, her nerves to know the answer slowly eaten her.

* * *

Arthur waited patiently for the manager to arrive, took a seat and lit another cigarette. Beside him sat a woman covered in a white coat, with huge dark circles under her brown eyes and a long dark hair. She stared at him and he tried to ignore her, but it was impossible, the weight of her gaze was immense and Arthur, who did not stop smoking, took his eyes to the front.

"It's you ..." the woman said, her voice was low and sharp. Arthur ignored her. "It's you ..." He shook his head and denied calmly, the woman ducked her gaze and analyzed him in more detail. Moments later she smiled, revealing her yellowed and deformed teeth. "The clown..."

Arthur gaze her, her disturbing smile had not frightened him, but his sudden statement had ignited alarms on him. The woman clapped like crazy and screamed with joy, got up from the seat and left Arthur, who watched her go until she disappeared into a corner.

"I found them!" He listened. Arthur put out his cigar and threw it in the trash, got up from his seat and looked at the file manager with a huge box in his hand. "It was very difficult; the thirty-year archives are much forgotten. Look at the accumulated dust." Arthur placed his forehead in the mesh that separated them and looked with both eyebrows raised. "Okay, Penny Fleck."

He began to rummage through the box until the worn file appeared, the manager opened it and read it, causing the expression on his face to change radically. He looked up and watched an anxious Arthur.

"Something is wrong?"

"What are you from her?"

"Her son." He nodded his head and slammed the file. "You know? I need your mother to come to sign a documentation. This is dead file and verification is needed to ..."

Arthur stopped hearing his words, took the file with incredible force and tried to snatch it away. The manager was clinging, and, to his surprise, Arthur gave a header to the mesh, frightening him and managing to drop the file. Arthur took advantage of the weakness and ran down the huge hall, looked back a couple of times and went to hide on the emergency stairs to read his mother's medical report.

* * *

Arthur glanced at the steps, hoping they would not find him. Once he corroborated, opened the file and began reading the documents regarding his mother. Penny had been admitted to the psychiatric hospital a couple of times, she had been diagnosed with narcissism and lived hallucinations. The reports detailed that she proclaimed that her son was from Thomas Wayne. Arthur kept reading when he stopped suddenly and what he saw left him frozen. An act of adoption. He took it and read it. His name was there, the reason he had been left in an orphanage was for abandonment and he watched as Penny Fleck's name contained like his new mother's. Arthur's eyes filled with tears and his sadness increased upon discovering that his mother's boyfriends had physically abused him, and it was when his memories hit him brutally.

A clear memory came, which shone like the sun in the morning, he was five years old and he was tied to a radiator. The heat that it emanated had suffocated him, had traumatized him. The image of his young mother appeared in front of him, Penny smiled motherly as she stroked his cheek and her voice echoed in his mind:

"Arthur ... you are the happiest child in the world. You always give me happiness and you must always bring happiness to others."

He could feel the softness of her hand on his warm cheek and her smile was tattooed on his mind. Arthur dropped the file and his tears kept falling. His tears flooded the place while the bitter memories of his childhood, those he had seemed to forget, burned him like fire into flesh.

* * *

The nurse returned to the room to check Penny. Grace, seeing her cross the threshold of the door, got up from the armchair and walked towards her, asking if she could take care of Mrs. Fleck for a few moments as she went for her results. The young nurse kindly accepted, and the redhead ran out of the place. She arrived at the laboratories and they handed her the envelope with the results and without waiting any longer she opened it and read the result.

Her skin paled suddenly, she placed her body on the wall and then dropped and lay on the floor. Her green eyes did not peel off the paper, she read and read the result without stopping thinking that her mind was playing a bad joke. Grace examined the remittent, perhaps she was mistaken as other person but no, her name was printed on the envelope. The redhead stuck the letter to her chest and tears began to flow. She could not identify the tears as happiness or saddens, or a mixture of both, but the result had been positive. She was pregnant.

Grace brought the back of her hand on her cheeks, narrowing these hard to disappear the trail that the tears had caused. Endless thoughts came to her mind, most were not positive and then she thought about how she would say this to Arthur and how he would react. When she had questioned him about the children, his sharp response had demotivated her in some way. Arthur did not want had a son and now one was coming. Grace's breaths stirred and her crying was impossible to stop, she had to find a way to tell him the news and prepare for what the answer was.

* * *

The rain began to cover the city, Arthur left the psychiatric without looking back. Something inside him had broken into thousands of pieces while his life turned upside down. Although, in everything he had been alive was treated in a terrible way, when find out his mother's greatest secret and how he had lied to her, had made everything that Arthur had accumulated in years slowly come out.

He looked at the sky and let the drops fall on his face. These were cold, refreshed him inside which he had not stopped burning since his discovery. Arthur looked straight ahead, began his long walk and along with the fact that his mind began to slowly destroy itself, forging that new being that a past had left to do justice over its perpetrators. Penny Fleck will meet that new being soon.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	13. Chapter XIII

**XIII.**

Arthur came home. The road had been long, tedious and cold, just as he had wished. He closed his door and lay his soaked body on it, still thinking about what happened today. Thomas Wayne was right. His life had been a lie disguised with joy. The words that Penny always said were repeated which broken record in his tormented head. He repeatedly crashed his forehead into the wood until a few tears came up again. The memories of his life passed which movie, happiness? When had he been happy? In no time of his fucking life.

And between his tears and memories, his laughter emerged. His thunderous and peculiar laugh managed to widen his lips and lift his cheeks, laughter flooded the apartment and the pain consumed him infinitely. Arthur sat down in his armchair, his body kept shaking and the sound of his laughter had come to neighboring apartments, listening as they asked to shut up. He ignored them, leaned back and placed himself in a fetal position and he will leave time to continue next to his tears and laughter.

* * *

Grace watched through the window of the hospital room. The drops slid swiftly through the glass and she paid attention to the time on her watch. It was after ten and Arthur did not arrive. Concern arose in her, she brought one of her hands to her chest and felt the beating of her heart at an unusual pace. Grace prayed that Arthur was well, that he did not have the misfortune of crossing any of the demonstrations that people made. She sighed, dropped her arms and approached the armchair in search of her purse and took out a few coins.

"I will make a call, Mrs. Fleck. It won't take me long," the redhead said as she palmed the woman hand. Penny responded with a grimace and Grace left the room.

When she reached the ground floor, she took one of the public telephones and began to throw the coins, surprised at the echo they were making. The hospital was empty and the serenity that abounded in the place was scary. Grace dialed the number and waited patiently, listening to the sound of the line. Moments later the sound of the telephone line stopped, and Grace knew that the answering machine had entered, hung up the call, took one of her hands on her forehead and a bitter sigh came. She tried one last time and the result was the same. That anguish tormented her again and continued with her prayers for to Arthur was well.

Upon arriving in the room, Grace paid attention to the television to see that the Murray Franklin show began. Penny looked at the program and she turned up the volume so both could enjoy the program. In what they enjoyed the night, and before Murray finished the show, there was something that caught the redhead's attention.

"Do you remember our friend who tried to be a comedian?" He asked. "Well, many of you have called us to repeat his video and the truth is that surprises me." The audience began to laugh at the obvious sarcasm. "So, we've thought about it a lot and what better way to invite the man in person." All the people clapped, Murray asked for some control and put his hands together with a loud clap. "Of course, dear public, we will do everything possible so that in the next program our Joker will be the star of the night."

"Joker?" The redhead questioned between surprised and amused.

The show ended, she discovered that Penny had fallen asleep and tried to cover her with the sheets. She turned off the television, moved the curtain that divided the room to protect the privacy and took one last look out the window. The darkness that the night offered terrified her, the blackened sky did not stop throwing its rain and resumed the armchair, ready to rest. Today she had been very unsettling for the day, especially knowing that she would soon be a mother.

Remembering this, he brought his hands to his belly and with his thumbs caressed him sweetly, gave a half smile and thought about the future that was approaching. She could not deny being afraid, she had never planned the idea of a child, even when she was Richard's couple. Now Grace just had to wait and know how Arthur would take it to be able to move forward with this new step in their lives.

* * *

Arthur had turned the apartment upside down, his laughter and crying stopped a couple hours ago, and now an immense rage was who accompanied him. He was in the kitchen; his arms were laying on the dishwasher and the effort it caused dimmed the veins on his light skin. In his body he did not stop feeling a colossal heat; it burned him, and its sudden action was to open the refrigerator, take out all its contents and lock itself in it.

Time passed, the phone rang about twice but preferred not to answer; the answering machine did its thing and no message was left. Feeling the cold in his body, Arthur got out of the furniture and walked to the room to stay in bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, without stopping feeling miserable and remembered something important.

He remembered his old friend, the old revolver. He looked for it among his things and when he found it, he looked at it as a lost treasure. A crazy smile was drawn on his face and stroked the gun, he had missed his old friend. He placed it under his chin and his eyes looked at the rotting roof on which he lived, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Nothing had happened. He acted repeatedly and when he reacted to the nothing that happened, he lowered the gun and opened it. It was empty and he knew he had to buy a few bullets. He got up from the place and left it on the table, looked for a cigar to calm the nerves but with the hatred present in him. And throughout the night he thought in detail how Penny should pay the happiness that had brought him so much.

* * *

The powerful scent of cigar bothered Grace's nose; the smell was so intense that the disgust had woken her. She looked confused and discovered Arthur, leaning against the wall, smoking as usual and looking rigidly at Penny.

"Thank God!" Exclaimed the redhead, relieved. She finished rising from the armchair and quickly approached him. She hugged him with all her strength and could feel how tense it came from his body. Grace looked confused and see that at no time, Arthur had not reciprocated her greeting. "Are you okay?" She asked uneasily.

Arthur brought the cigar to his mouth and did not answer, Grace kept analyzing him and distinguished how the brightness of his eyes had dimmed. Something had happened to him, she had noticed it for a long time, but he did not speak, and she felt that he was pressing hard for him to trust her most intimate concerns. Gradually Grace stepped aside, watching as he ignored her presence.

"Go home," he said. "Arthur ..."

"It's my turn," he continued. "You look terrible and you need to rest."

The deep and sour tone of his voice managed for the first time, do Grace to feel some discomfort. He had always enjoyed being next to Arthur, but now that feeling came and annoyed him entirely. She nodded her head, turned around in search of her purse and, before leaving the room, she approached him, kissed his cheek and whispered: "I love you." Arthur did not respond to any of his affections and she left the place, taking with her that bitter feeling.

Arthur sharpened his ears and waited for the roar of wedge heels to go away, and once that sound was not perceived, he placed himself next to his mother and waited for her to open her eyes.

An hour passed and the blonde opened her eyes, seeing her son next to her.

"Ha ... Happy," she called, showing enormous joy.

The look of anger that covered Arthur's eyes worried Penny a little, a strange grin was his response and he brought the cigar to his mouth as he approached his stretcher. The words that Arthur spit were full of hate and Penny did not understand why if his son had always put a smile on her face. He took his pillow and the last words he heard from him left marks on her mind.

"I used to think that my life was a tragedy, but I finally realized it was a fucking comedy."

Arthur placed the pillow on her face and squeezed with enormous force. Without understanding his son's action, Penny sought to stop him but no matter how hard she tried, she weakened. Slowly he was losing air and, as soon as the monitoring machine stopped, Arthur released the pillow and looked at his mother's sad and faint face. He accommodated the pillow as it should be and, letting out the smoke, he moved away from the stretcher feeling like the anger he had forged did not disappear altogether. The woman, whom she thought was her mother, who cared for her, had paid what she did, what made her believe she was and yet his hatred did not die out. It wanted to flow. A little bit of grief blanketed his heart and he was giving a last look to his mother, turned around and left the place, no matter what would come next.

* * *

He faked a trip to the bathroom, when he returned, he found the nurses trying to revive Penny. Arthur tried to pretend surprise, deep down it was a bit difficult. The nurses did their best and Penny Fleck was left for dead that morning. The nurse who had motivated Grace for the pregnancy test, looked strangely at Arthur and he seemed worried but deep down she knew he wasn't, and her instinct warned her that he had to do with Mrs. Fleck's death, who showed slight improvement. Arthur enlisted everything for an early funeral, that same day in the afternoon, so he went home in search of his best suit to end this.

* * *

At home, Grace had suffered from disgust and dizziness again, the symptoms of pregnancy were beginning to drive her crazy, but she knew it was natural and should take it for a while. She took her yellow section and began looking for a gynecologist to schedule an appointment as soon as possible, and as she turned the leaves, the image of that serious Arthur came to her mind.

As much as she thought she could have it that way, that feeling had stayed with her and the fear of telling him about the pregnancy had sprouted. Grace took her hand behind the back of her neck and scratched it eagerly, she thought it was best to wait for Penny to improve and thus release the news. For her that turned out to be the best. The redhead set aside the directory and decided to rest since if it was exhausted. She took a shower and lay on the bed, prepared her alarm for four in the afternoon and drove to the world of dreams to reconcile with it.

* * *

In the cemetery, Arthur was the only one present and his crimson suit stood out for a moment like that. The father did not question the man and Penny Fleck was buried under the blessing of the church. Arthur never mentioned a word, a smile was his final answer and he left the cemetery without looking back, but to his surprise, those detectives were waiting for him off-site.

"Mr. Fleck," said Detective Burke. "Good afternoon," he replied smiling. "We hear about his mother's death, we're sorry," Detective Garrity continued. "You wouldn't have bothered, officers," he said, carrying his umbrella over his shoulder and a cigar in his mouth. Both detectives looked dumbfounded by his cynical behavior.

"Mr. Fleck. I know this is not a good time to bother you, however, we would like to talk about your mother."

"Why do you need to know about her? If she already passed away."

"Apparently the circumstances of his death turn out to be ... mysterious."

"More by not asking an autopsy."

"I'm so sorry," he said as he turned around and walked away from the men. "Mr. Fleck!"

Arthur raised his hand, said goodbye to both and continued his way home.

When he set foot in his apartment, Arthur heard the phone and ignored it as it should be. He has continued smoking and let the answering machine do his thing. As soon as a female voice sounded, it was perceived that it was not Grace's, he heard:

"We want to invite you to Murray Franklin's program and ...

He got up from the bed and quickly approached to answer the call. He could not believe what was mentioned, he would be with Murray Franklin. His dream had come true and with a peculiar smile, he accepted the invitation.

* * *

The afternoon came and Grace arrived at the hospital, upon entering the room she discovered the nurse preparing the bed for a new patient.

"Hello," she greeted confusedly. "Where Mrs. Fleck is?"

"I'm sorry to give you this news, miss. Mrs. Fleck passed away this morning."

Grace's skin paled, a frightening sensation ran through her body and the need to pass out arrived. He managed to hold up the wall and the nurse ran to assist her.

"Are you right?!"

"Yes, yes ... Did she die?" She nodded. "Sorry, apparently it was a respiratory arrest."

"Apparently?" She asked in amazement. "The son denied an autopsy, so the doctor ruled that."

Grace tried to support herself, thanked the nurse for everything and left the hospital in search of Arthur, imagined the pain he must have, and she wanted to know the reality about Penny Fleck's dead.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	14. Chapter XIV

**XIV.**

Grace took the public phone and with her trembling hands she threw the coins, dialed the number and waited for her call to be taken. The phone ring did not stop, and the answering machine entered.

"Arthur," she released. "I-I'm in the hospital and ..." She stopped and took for a big breath. "They just informed me about your mother ... I ... I am going to your house. I won't be late."

The redhead hung up the call and left the place. By placing one foot outside the hospital, and taking the first steps on the pavement, Grace lifted her face and discovered something peculiar on the streets. People wore clown masks, posters in hand and their deafening cries of protest. The large number of people was ready for an immense demonstration and she experienced a chill running down her back. This was not a good sign. Concerned, Grace snuck out the crowd to be able to direct her steps to the subway and go to Arthur's house.

* * *

In what Grace arrived at the hospital to know about that fateful news, at home, Arthur had given birth to his deepest being; one that had long been asking to out. He dyed his hair green, painted his face with white retouching and, while thinking about the way he would give his new being, he looking for the rest of his makeup among the drawers and found an old photograph of his mother. Penny was a beautiful woman. It cannot refuse, anyone would have fallen at her feet. He turned the picture and saw a description on it:

_"I love your smile. T.W."_

Arthur wrinkled the picture until his hand formed into a fist, his veins jumped and with immense anger he threw the picture to the ground. A few tears sprouted and his mother's face drew in his mind, regretting what he had done. Arthur undid his tears along with his makeup, he was not going to cry. No more. He continued to paint his face when the doorbell rang.

"I'm coming!" He exclaimed while taking scissors. He reached the door and looked at his former workmates, Randall and Gary. "Hello Arthur," greeted the dwarf. "We come to visit you."

"That's right, how are you my friend?" Randall continued. He stepped aside and they entered the home, feeling a great emptiness. "Where's your mother?"

"She died this morning," he replied like nothing. They both looked amazed. "Arthur, we're so sorry," Gary said. "Yes friend, anything you need ..."

"It's not necessary," he interrupted and leaned against the wall. "I am celebrating..."

"Arthur, friend, we brought you some things," Randall continued curiously as he extended a bag. "We don't know if you already have a job, but with what happened to your mother, this can help you." Arthur took it and set it at the table. "You know? The other day, Phil, saw you on the street accompanied by a woman, a redhead."

"She's my girlfriend," he responded as he turned around and lay his posterior at the table. Arthur took out a cigar and started smoking. "Well, well! We did not know it. So, you already have someone?"

"Good, Arthur," Gary continued. "I'm glad for you," he confessed sincerely. "Thanks Gary."

"How is she…?"

"How is she about what?"

"You know ... How is she between the sheets?"

"It's not your concern, Randall."

"I'm curious, heh, I can't deny it. But that's true." Fleck watched Randall sternly and continued smoking. "By the way, Arthur, will you go to the protest?" Asked Gary curiously.

"Protest?"

"Yes, today there will be a huge protest. You will imagine. But I am asking you this because the makeup you wear."

"No. I will not go to protest. Today I have a better date."

"Good, that's good, Arthur," Randall continued. "By the way, speaking about protests, a few days ago they were some policemen at work and talked to me and Hoyt." He moved away from the table and started walking towards the entrance. "They asked about you."

"The police went to the office?" Gary asked confused.

"Yes, they interrogated us about the gun and ..." Arthur looked up with him. Fear froze his blood. "And they just wanted to ask us about a gun, and we told them you didn't have a gun ..."

"Don't lie Randall ..." he interrupted. The tone of his voice worried both. "I always knew it. I knew what you said to Hoyt, everything you lied to."

"Arthur ..."

He took one of his hands to his back pocket and Randall justified himself. Tired of Randall's lies and abuse, Arthur took out the scissors and fit them into his jugular. Blood gushed out like fountain, soaking Arthur's white face. He took out the scissors and the next section was to fit them in his eye. Gary shouted in horror at what he saw, he begged Arthur to stop but he didn't listen; the crimson adorned his pale skin and, at the end of his fit of rage, he carried Randall's head against the wall crashing it repeatedly, delighting at the cracking of the skull.

The adrenaline stopped; Arthur fell next to Randall's trembling body. His agitated breathing reminded him that Gary was still there. He looked at him and he avoided eye contact.

"I won't hurt you," he said. "You can go."

The dwarf ran to the door and when he opened it, he discovered the safety on. Frightened he turned and asked Arthur to open the door. He obeyed, but not before frightening him, said goodbye to Gary with a kiss on his forehead and thanked him for being kind to him. The dwarf fled the apartment, what he had witnessed had left him speechless and ran without looking back.

Arthur turned around and watched the plump body, which stopped convulsing. A half smile landed on his face and approached him. With his index and middle fingers, he took the scissors and took them out cautiously, letting himself be amazed by the blood that did not stop sprouting. And while he contemplated his new work, the telephone rang. He snorted bitterly and let the answering machine act, Grace's voice flooded her apartment and the news of her next arrival made Arthur hide Randall's body somewhere in his apartment and decided to enlist for his next visit.

* * *

Grace tried to get away from the crowd of people, unfortunately, several joined her on her subway ride. She watched scared all the people, a lot were men but among them there were some women. She read their posters and hate phrases towards the rich, Thomas Wayne and the entire system achieving some fear in her.

The redhead tried to look away but in every corner the image was the same. She was surprised at the fact that a killer clown had managed to arouse an entire city. She sighed in fear and appreciated how several of the protesters saw her. Those eyes were not stalkers, they were angry looks. A rage for not being part of their new ideal.

She trembled and her final decision was to take her eyes to the ground. She focusses her vison on her wedge heels and wished the trip would end soon, but it was difficult. The song of the protesters covered her ears: "Death to the rich, death to Wayne!"

She brought her arms around her body, closed her eyes and breathed nervously, listening all the way to the ambition of seeing chaos born.

* * *

Her stop came, Grace found it difficult to get off and watched them as everyone analyzed her. Once the train car doors closed, the redhead saw the Protestants through the windows; it was surprised that their voices appreciated before the movement. She ran out from the station and, without paying attention to the rest of the city, ran to the apartments where Arthur lived.

Grace watched agitated those huge stairs, took the air she needed and looked up to appreciate more of those people. Feeling the air in her lungs, Grace armed herself with courage and climbed, ignoring all those people. She reached the building, took the elevator and felt a strange sensation in her. They were not the symptoms of her pregnancy; it was a bad feeling.

She knocked on the door, there was no immediate response, she insisted loudly, and Arthur opened. Seeing him, the redhead was amazed, Arthur was wearing crimson pants and a turquoise shirt, his face was painted white with a big red smile. His hair was dyed green, one very dark but visible. He smiled and brought the redhead back to herself.

"A-Arthur?" She called nervously.

He approached her, took her from her waist and planted a kiss on her pink lips. Grace was shocked, put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. His kiss felt shameless, it was not what she had like it.

"Arthur?" She insisted, at the end of that moment. "Grace, honey," he spoke as he held his hands over her reddish hair. "I'm glad you came. Come in."

Arthur led the redhead to the apartment, closed the door and she did not look away from him. Again, close to her, he took her from her waist; his wide and crazy smile made her nerves take hold of her. Grace felt their bodies attached and with some fear she kept seeing him.

"Art ..." He stopped her with another kiss. Both began to sway towards the living room, and in that instant, Grace noticed a large stain of blood on the wall. Horrified, she parted her lips and stared at that place. "Oh God!" Arthur took her chin and forced her to look at him, making his green eyes meet his gray eyes. "Calm down, just kill a rat. A huge rat," he emphasized.

"A rat?!" She asked tremblingly. He affirmed and she seemed to believe him. "Arthur, for God's sake, why didn't you tell me about your mother's death?!"

"Everything was sudden," he said with false sadness. Grace noticed how they both danced in the middle of the living room. "I think I never asked you this but ... do you like dancing?" She looked at his sides and then at him. "I love it."

"Arthur ... What happened?"

He moved a little away from her and stretched his arm to continue dancing. He made the redhead take a half turn, crossed her arms and stood behind him. Arthur reunited his body to her and lay his chin in her hair. Grace looked static at what happened. Both were swaying like a romantic dance and Fleck enjoyed the moment.

"Arthur," the redhead insisted, beside her ear she heard his slight response. "What's going on?" She questioned with a certain irritability. "I'll go to Murray's show tonight," he confessed happily. Her green gaze widened.

"To the Murray show?" She felt the affirmative movement of his head in hers. Grace frowned and remembered Franklin's words. "Joker?" She whispered. Arthur withdrew his chin a little and looked at his beloved. "My time has come, Grace. I will finally be with Murray. I did it! I will be in his show!"

She turned her head and analyzed him. A peculiar smile drew his face and the brightness of his eyes had changed. It was different. It did not look like the glow she had fallen in love with.

"Arthur," she called melancholy, "will you really go? I mean, I do not want you to get me wrong, I am glad they are given your chance; however, it is not the time. The death of your mother is recent and ..."

"My mother would have wanted it," he stopped dead. "She would love to see me on TV, more next to Murray." She swallowed hard, if that were one of Penny Fleck's illusions, she would respect it. She closed his eyes and sighed sadly. "Will you go like that?" She let go. "With the clown makeup? There will be a protest, it looks very disturbing. I don't want them to think that ..."

Arthur made her turn around and faced him. He gave her a new kiss, placed her hands on her chin and she tried to keep talking but that kiss managed to shut her up. They parted their lips, Arthur watched as those soft lips were colored in the red of his makeup while Grace breathed heavily. Everything that was happening confused Grace, she could not understand it no matter how hard she tried. She brought her hands over Arthur's, stared at him and got lost in his eyes. Something strange was happening, something that his gaze betrayed him. It was a lack of sanity.

"Arthur ..." she called sadly. "What's going on? Please, I beg you, tell me."

"Nothing happens, Grace. Absolutely nothing."

Once again, he put his lips together and made sure Grace did not get away from him. The redhead succumbed in temptation and was carried away for the moment; she did not insist again, and Arthur led the way to the room, where they crossed the door and he closed it.

He laid the redhead on the bed and his kisses did not stop. Arthur put his hands on her calves and slowly raised them along with her skirt. Grace let out a low moan and put her hands on his pants, ready to strip him and as she lowered his zipper, he removed her undergarment. They parted their lips, Arthur continued kissing on the redhead's neck, perceiving her perfume. Grace hugged him; the snorting of her nose betrayed how excited she had been for the moment. Sometimes she thought this was wrong and wanted to stop, even so the passion was greater. She appreciated how Arthur unbuttoned her blouse and ran his hand over her belly, remembering the fact of her pregnancy and the fact she had not been able to say. She bit her lips and sought to relax, so that they could rejoice in that intimacy which they had fallen.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	15. Chapter XV

**XV.**

Accommodating her blushing reddish hair, Grace looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and melancholy covered her face. Once she adjusted her bra and put on her cream blouse, she put her hands on her belly, rubbing them gently against her skin. Her head began to work quickly and thinking about everything that had just happened these days. A guilt invaded her, Mrs. Fleck's death was recent, and she and Arthur acted as if they had not mattered and the fact of not saying about her pregnancy was beginning to worry her. Grace took a seat in the toilet, closed her eyes and let the guilt continue to act.

While the redhead was still in the bathroom, Arthur had finished the touches of his makeup; the white face and the red smile were accompanied by a reddish nose tip, small eyebrows of the same color and blue triangles above and below his eyes. Everything looked perfect. That was his true being. He got up from the chair and went in search of his revolver, it could not miss his great moment. Already with the weapon in hand, Arthur verified that it was loaded and confirming that fact, he returned to the room and hid his friend to avoid any interrogation by the redhead.

Grace had her hands on her face, rubbed them hard and let out a gasp. She finished dressing and decided to arm herself with courage and talk once and for all with Arthur. The redhead opened the door, went to the room and found Arthur well-dressed and with his faithful cigar in hand. He smiled when he saw she and the redhead responded in the same way, leaned on the door frame and, without erasing their smiles, Grace began to look for the right words to release the great news.

"You look beautiful," he confessed. "More than usual."

"Thank you ..." she said surprised. "I see you finished, you ..." She lifted one of her hands and with a twist close to her face, toward the reference to his face paint. "You like it?" He asked amusedly.

"It looks ... Looks good. It's very different from what you used to wear ..." Grace stopped, and a nervous giggle appeared. "I don't know if I explain myself."

"Yes," he said as he brought his cigar to his mouth.

Grace noticed he had put a gold vest on and a coat, which completed his suit, lay on the chair. Nerves invaded the redhead and while her head looked for the best way to say everything, there was something that prevented it. She took a deep breath, let out the air and said the first thing that came to her mind:

"Arthur, do you want me to accompany you to the show?" Grace asked, still nervous. He removed the cigar from his mouth and looked at her. "To cheer you."

"No," he replied suddenly, and she was surprised. "I want you to see me on TV and I want you to never forget that moment, Grace." A slight shiver ran through her body. "But...?" The redhead stopped and shook her head, analyzing what he had said. "You don't want me by your side?"

He got up, approached her and took her in his arms. Both swayed lightly and Arthur smiled.

"I always want you to be with me, but today, today is something I should do alone." The redhead knit her brows. "Alone? What you mean about alone?" He smiled and kissed her. "Go home. Today will be a very hectic night."

Grace blinked in bewilderment, emotions sprouted in her and she looked at Arthur with a crystalline look.

"Arthur," she called sadly, hugged him and laid her head on his chest. "Please take care. Things is getting crazy out there, everyone has gone crazy and ..."

"Grace, we all go crazy at some point," he said, and she raised her head to look at him. A severe face was her answer. "We all lose our mind at some point. You don't have to worry."

"What do you mean? Why shouldn't I worry? She asked scared and he did not answer anymore. "Arthur?"

He took Grace's chin and stared at her. The fear she radiated was easy to feel and his was not moved by it. He joined his lips one last time, passionately kissed the redhead and she fell for to that kiss of peculiar sensations. Grace dropped a few tears on that the kiss continued; her love and concern arose, and she clung to Arthur's arms, hopeful that all this strange moment and behavior would end.

The two separated, the tears could no longer stop, and Arthur wiped them with his thumbs.

"Put a smile on your face. Seeing you like this makes me sad." Grace lowered her gaze, lightly squeezed his arms and then released him. She raised her head and, still with tears running down her cheeks, showed her best smile. "I like that."

"I'll see you on TV," she said as goodbye.

The redhead turned around and went for her bag to leave the apartment. At no time did Arthur take his eyes off her and when he saw her leave the place, he went to put his coat on to go to Murray Franklin's show.

* * *

The liberation he felt was indescribable, his new happiness was represented in a fantastic dance. That new being had the luxury of enjoying what was happening, and next to the rays of the sunset and an exquisite cigar, his dance and descent on those stairs began all that madness that he carried within him.

* * *

Detectives Burke and Garrity tried on arresting Arthur Fleck for the sudden death of his mother. They arrived at the apartment and their welcome was an open door.

"Fleck!" They shouted, there was no answer.

The two entered and discovered the empty site. Burke saw a large stain of blood on the wall and they both prepared to examine the apartment. While Garrity searched the room, discovering the unattended bed, Burke entered the kitchen and examined the knives, searching for clues. And while analyzing there was something that caught his attention, something from the refrigerator. He approached the device and watched as a crimson thread slipped from the door. He put on a glove and opened the refrigerator, discovering Randall's body bathed in blood.

"Shit!" He screams. Garrity approached and with horror and disgust he saw the body. "We got it."

"Here Burke!" He called on his radio. "We have a body at the Fleck residence. We will go behind the suspect."

Garrity and Burke left the apartment and ran in search of Arthur Fleck.

On the street, both they looked everywhere when someone very peculiar caught their attention. They went to the famous steps and watched Arthur Fleck, dancing with emotion on those steps.

"Fleck!" They shouted.

He stopped and turned to look at the detectives. He dropped his cigar and began a scandalous chase.

* * *

The cold air pounded on Fleck's cheeks, he looked behind his back and saw them hard on the heels. He took out his friend and fired in the air, mortifying the people around and the detectives themselves. Arthur took advantage and came to the avenue, where a taxi ran over him, and unfazed by the blow he rose and continued his way to the subway station.

Protestants were on the rise and Arthur camouflaged among them, yet the detectives were behind him. Proudly he was seeing the people who had gathered under his clown façade. Arthur stole a mask, put it on and continued his way away from those subjects. The people around noticed the presence of detectives, began to insult and humiliate them for being part of the law. They, fed up with the aggressive and vandalism behavior of the people, raised their weapons and threatened them but there were no reactions to their words.

People pounced on them and Arthur watched in wonder what was happening. One of the Protestants took the weapon of the detectives and without noticing it shot itself. People thought that the law had acted, and they all threw themselves against them. The subway doors opened and the detectives, desperate to flee, fell out of the subway with all the people, who did not let them even breathe.

The laughter that Arthur wore was enormous, he took off his mask and with a happy dance he said goodbye forever to those bastards. He let people do the rest and with immense pride and cynical satisfaction, Arthur took out a cigar watching the rest of the policemen enter the station, he continued his way to his destination.

* * *

Grace came home, the road was long in search of trails where she avoided all Protestants. She put the lock on her door and, feeling slight disgust, began to prepare for the Murray show. She turned on the television and thinking about the words Arthur had mentioned, about not forgetting that moment, she decided to record the program that night. The redhead enlisted her VCR and found an unused VHS, ready to record the show.

The disgust had intensified, Grace decided to go to her bathroom to vomit and while doing so, the news remained on the television.

"A tragic event has emerged a few moments ago at the subway station, two detectives were attacked by several of the protesters, who will protest in the central square of the Gotham city. Both detectives have been reported in serious conditions ..."

Grace left the bathroom and watched the news. She carried one of her hands on her face and watched in horror as they took the detectives on the stretchers, distinguishing one of them. They were what they had gone to Arthur's house.

"My God!" She exclaimed terrified.

She sat down in her armchair and terrified she noticed how the protesters attacked the reporters and cameramen. People had reached the maximum limits, all acted with violence, all had been influenced by that clown and the terror invaded Grace. The city had begun to burn.

She took the remote control and changed the channel; however, the news was the same. Violence and clowns were the protagonists. Grace turned off the television and hugged herself, her nerves had consumed her and the panic over what was happening sheltered her. Gotham City had succumbed to madness, chaos and anarchy that for a long-time people wanted to ignore.

Tears once again traveled the soft cheeks of the redhead, prayed that everything get controlled, not to get more awful and prayed that Arthur will not face these problems of the city, without imagining that he had been responsible for all this.

* * *

And while the streets spread gunpowder to light the dynamite, Arthur was amazed at its creation. People carrying his image with the hatred and anger that he always carried with him and the words of rage towards the insensitive Thomas Wayne made his laugh was loud. It was the best and most honest he had ever done in his life. He looked around and people applauded at that flashy laugh that flooded the streets, raised his hands and thanked for the noble ovation. The public did not stop exclaiming in joy as several civilians ran to hide from the horrific event that had begun. Saying goodbye with a bow, Arthur turned around and continued on his way to the Murray show, knowing that he had finished succumbing to his madness and all thanks to the best action he had done in his entire life. Doing justice by his own hand.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	16. Chapter XVI

**XVI.**

The receptionist of the place looked amazed at the last guest of the program. His facial paint, which was partly drained by his past persecution, worried a little bit to people behind the scenes. The woman led Arthur to his dressing room, and he asked for more paint to touch up his make-up. She did not answer, just nodded and closed the door for the guest to prepare.

She walked through the halls, had complied with the whim of the guest, and while meditating on the aspect in which he had arrived she ran into the producer of the program and the host himself.

"Mr. Franklin, Mr. Philips. The comedian arrived and ..."

"Excellent!" Exclaimed Murray, the receptionist tried to speak but he interrupted her. "I still don't understand how people want to see him, but hey, they rule, right?" The producer smiling and the receptionist interrupted them. "Gentlemen, there is something you need know about this guest."

"What's going on?"

"It's painted like a clown." The two men looked confused. "I think he has something to do with those protests."

With an arched eyebrow, Murray looked at his producer and, with a frown, he turned his eyes to his host.

"Let's go see him," he said, and sipped the coffee he has in his hand.

* * *

Arthur took one of the lipsticks that was included in his make-up and looked in the mirror. He did the touch up on his face, he looked perfect. And while a host of tortuous thoughts passed through his head, he removed the lid, lifted the lipstick and wrote in the mirror: "Put on a happy face." Remembering that he should do it, he should put on his best smile and showing a pleasant happiness, as always do.

Concluded his motivation, Arthur took a seat and smoked quietly, as if ending the sexual act was. He saw a stalemate in the room when the door swung open. He rose and look marveled at his idol, Murray Franklin

"Hello, welcome," he said as he examined him from head to toe. "Murray, hello," he replied nervously. "Man, its Mr. Franklin for you," said the producer. "Nothing is wrong, Phillips."

"Thank you, Murray. I am a big fan of your show."

"Glad to know it ... Oh, Excuse me? Your appearance ... Does it have something to do with the protests?"

"Oh no, no!" He exclaimed. "Not at all! I am apolitical."

"We're glad to hear it. Well, there are rules for the program." Arthur nodded. "One, nothing of offensive jokes, black humor and so on; we are a family program."

"Of course."

"And two, have fun."

"I like that last one."

"Already know it, now, you'll be after Dr. Cally."

"Oh, I love Dr. Cally!"

"That's good," he said strangely. "Then we'll see you at the show."

"Sure ... Oh, Murray!" He called once he turned around. They stopped and watched him. "Can I ask you a small favor?"

"Sure..."

"When you bring me out can you introduce me as joker?" They both frowned and looked skeptical. "You called me like that the first time."

"I did it?" Arthur nodded. "I don't remember ... But well, it will be ... See you in a while."

And both left the dressing room. Arthur vanished his smile as soon as he closed the door, took a seat again and pulled his revolver out of his pants. He leaned his head and watched the luminous ceiling. He was ready. Practical how he would make his biggest show as he smiled. This would be a night that no one would ever forget, just as he had told Grace.

* * *

The redhead looked through the window of her apartment. The street was covered in conflict, most of the neighborhood was forming chaos. Many were shouting, running and shouting under the blanket of protest in the city. Grace closed the curtain and looked at the time, Murray's show would start in five minutes.

She moved away from the place and turned on her television and she was ignoring the news, she looked for the channel where they broadcast the program. The redhead finished enrolling the VCR and she wait patiently for the moment. At the end of the last program, Grace began recording the VHS and the music of the program sounded with its harmonious style. She lifts from the place and went to her sofa, took one of her cushions and hugged it.

Murray Franklin made his comedic and usual monologue, announcing the guests of the night and Grace posed a smile upon hearing the slight pronunciation about Arthur. Murray have a seat at his desk and started with the first guest, a television star. In what the first guest enjoyed his moment, Grace heard frightful scandal coming from the street. With fear she got up from her armchair and went to the window to discover that they had lit several trash cans and even bags of it.

The redhead sighed in terror, moved away from the window and turn up the volume of the television to avoid the scandal outside. The program went to commercials, hinting that the next guest was not Arthur yet. He was part of the end of the show, he painted to be the big star of the night and Grace was eager to see his beloved fulfill one of his biggest dreams.

* * *

Arthur hid his revolver when he heard how they knocked on his door, he opened it and saw the managers checking the programming.

"Fifteen minutes."

"Thank you," he replied and closed the door.

He looked at himself one last time in the mirror and took all the air and confidence he could gather from the depths of his being. He reminded himself that today would be a great night. Today everything would end. Death would make more sense than his life. He had always thought about it and today he would, today it would make sense.

He heard his last call, left the dressing room and being behind that large curtain where it would become a semi-colon in his life. Arthur reaffirmed his confidence with a good cigar, heard the words Murray Franklin spat, they were nothing but poison to his ears and heart. And, before appearing on the scene, Arthur left a dance on the air that made him feel liberated to what he would face when he was crossing that threshold. People looked at him strangely, to them he seemed crazy and they were not so wrong.

* * *

"And our last guest, he wanted me to present him as a joker ..."

At those words Grace paid attention to the television, turned up the volume and clung to her cushion, feeling the emotion run through her body. Arthur would finally go on stage, today would be his big night.

Murray welcomed the Joker and he entered triumphantly and dancer. Grace let out a slight smile, Arthur's presentation had been peculiar. He greeted Murray and continued with the guests; Dr. Cally extended her hand, which Arthur ignored to plant a long, deep kiss.

Grace was surprised and jealous at the action Arthur had done. The kiss he gave old Dr. Cally lasted almost a minute and a half. And at the end of it a cynical smile adorned the shameless face of Fleck, who sat down next to Murray's desk, the public applauded wildly in what the guests looked at each other astonished by such an act. Arthur crossed his legs and watched all the people.

"Wow ... What a great entrance," Murray began.

Grace was left with some indignation over what happened, and she would be willing to question Arthur about his act of scoundrel. She pressed the cushion and Murray began the interview.

"All the people asked us to bring you to the program." Arthur did not stop smiling. "What do you think if you tell us a joke?"

He took his gaze with Franklin and, behind his bag, pulled out his esteemed notebook. This time Grace showed a tender smile, she knew that in that notebook lay all the ideas that arose in Arthur's head. She appreciated how Murray questioned him about his notebook and he excused himself for not wanting to ruin his moment. Grace sensed that Arthur was nervous, and felt bad about not being by his side, but it had been his request.

"Knock, knock," he said. "Seriously?" Asked Murray. The people laughed. "For something so basic do you need to check your notebook?"

"I want everything to be perfect," he said again.

Grace noticed how Murray Franklin had spoken. His words were not to laugh with him, rather, to make fun of him. The redhead put her hands on her chest, wishing her thoughts were wrong. Arthur's countenance changed suddenly; the audience laughed cruelly. Arthur told an acid, almost black joke and the audience booed him. Grace affirmed her most terrible thought. Arthur was not on the show to make himself shine; he was there to see him humiliated.

"My God ..." she whispered. "Why?"

The redhead felt her heart break when she saw her couple being humiliated mercilessly. Arthur smiled, anxiety had begun to eat him, and knowing that the teasing was cruel, he decided to show his best show.

"It is all you have?" Asked Murray. "No ... No ... It is just, these weeks have been hard for me, Murray. More since I killed those three types of Wall Street, those workers of Thomas Wayne ..."

A raw silence formed, and Arthur shaped his most cynical smile. Hearing those words, Grace was paralyzed by it. She felt her blood stop flowing and tried to analyze what Arthur had revealed. In that revelation Murray prepared to continue the game.

"Well, I'm waiting for the punch line."

"There is no punch line. It's not a joke, I killed those three bastards."

Grace brought both hands over her face, hiding the horror that had sheltered her. Arthur was revealing to be that murderous clown of the subway, the one who had started all this terrible movement. Murray decided to follow the clown's game and continued to question him about his actions. Arthur revealed a bitter truth, one that Grace did not know. Arthur Fleck was a man, not only economically miserable, but also with severe mental problems. Arthur Fleck blamed the society in which he had lived for how he was, and he is treated, blamed the corruption of the rich for ignoring people like him and of many kinds. Arthur Fleck felt no remorse for his actions, he was happy with what he had created and was proud to be the cause of hell in Gotham City.

The expression of terror that Grace carried with her mixed with a bitter sadness. Arthur Fleck, the man he had fallen in love with, who gave herself body and soul, and was about to give him a son, showed the world his identity. Grace's heart broke into thousands of pieces and her tears began to flood through her apartment. She wanted to believe that all this was a terrible joke, but every time Murray confronted Arthur more, the intensity between them increased.

"How about another joke, Murray?"

"Do not. We had enough of your jokes."

"What happens when you meet a man with mental problems, abandoned in a society which treats him as garbage?! I will tell you what happens. You get what you fucking deserve!"

Arthur brought out his revolver, pointed it at him and in an instant the bullet pierced Murray Franklin's forehead, perpetrating a live murder. Faced with that scene, Grace shouted in terror. Arthur had gone mad, Murray's blood dripped down his face as the rest splashed and slowly slid down the wall. Arthur's body was shaking, a huge laugh appeared and filled the silent place. The audience and guests fled the stage, and, on the other side of the screen, Grace's tears fell nonstop. She saw a disoriented Arthur, he seemed to think what he had done, and, in the end, he rose to finish off Franklin's body. The cries of anguish she emitted covered the entire floor of her apartment; she begged Arthur to stop, knowing that he was not listening to her, and to end the show, he walked towards the camera, giving an encouraging speech which was suspended.

Grace looked at the interrupted signal, her crying was unstoppable, and, in her tears, she heard the scandal in the street, which had intensified. She lifted from her chair and looked out the window as people shouted and danced full of happiness. Arthur had accomplished a great task. The redhead lost her reason, everything that had just happened had upset her and while her hands went through her long hair, she felt the urge to go to where Arthur was. She wanted to see him, she wanted to talk to him. And with the pieces of her heart stuck in her throat, Grace took her coat and went out to that hell that had begun.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	17. Chapter XVII

**XVII.**

As she left the apartment building, Grace stared in terror at the chaos that danced in the streets. People came and went everywhere, some terrified and others, who were the Protestants, raised their posters along with baseball bats and other things, ready to attack anyone who opposed them. The scent of burned garbage reached her nose, the redhead covered herself with one of her hands and accelerated her steps to get to the bus stop if the service was available. While heading there, Grace enhanced her steps become a career, the screams of the people were a mixture of fear and euphoria and the words they spat express the hatred they represented. And upon reaching the corner of the street, Grace discovered a family car braking just where she was. The pilot's door opened, and an agitated Richard appeared in front of her.

"Grace!" He shouted in anger. She shivered. "Get in the car!" He ordered. "What are you doing here?!" She asked startled. "Fuck damn it, Grace, don't ask and come in!"

"I'm not going anywhere with you, until you tell me, what are you doing here?!" The raven-haired man approached her and grabbed her arm, as if it were a custom and looked at her. "Your little boyfriend created all this chaos! Or what, you did not see it on Murray's show?! He murdered him," he spat, "he confessed to being the subway killer and the one who started all this shit!"

"And that has to do with me going with you?!" Grace reproached in what was released from his grip. "Because I'll take you with the police! You will testify against him!" The redhead's eyes widened as her mind tried to process what Richard said. "I knew that guy was weird, but being a murderer changes the whole picture!" He exclaimed with a big laugh.

Grace's body began to shake, she knew that Richard's intentions were for her to run and cry at his feet for help, as she did in the past, but the redhead did not intend to obey him, she did not intend to follow his act of powerful man. She looked around and the anarchy extended with immense breadth. She tried to run and Richard, in the face of that action, managed to hold her by her waist.

"Let me go!" She screams. Richard ignored her and began dragging her to his car. Grace did not stop screaming and looked at the people around, begging for help she knew would not come. And between her tears and despair, she decided to join the shouts of the protesters: "Help me, please, he is a rich man, he is a rich man!" She cried desperately.

The people around their turned their heads as those words had come out of her mouth. They watched as that man, in an elegant and neat suit, dragged the poor and humble redhead into his expensive car. Getting ready their baseball bats, objects and fists quickly approached that corner. Richard looked out of the corner of his eye at several subjects wearing their clown masks and ready for anything.

"Excuse us, this is a private matter!"

"Please!" Cried the redhead in tears. "He wants to take me with him, he wants to take me with him!"

"Close the fucking mouth, Grace!" He demanded.

And with those words it was enough for several of those guys to stand up against Richard. He released the redhead, she walked away several steps from there and dreadfully watched as the people threw themselves at him, hitting him and humiliating him for being a person of rank. Grace turned around and ran away from that place, while Richard's screams and supplications became a heartbreaking echo.

* * *

Grace stopped her walk and leaned on a fence, carried one of her hands on her half face and the other on her belly. Her agitated breathing had made her more nervous than she already was. The thought about what she had done, she had acted terrible, but she needed to run away from him. She had to see Arthur, as soon as possible. Feeling a little calm, Grace stood up and took a big breath, she knew that her way to the center of the city would be affected and delayed by everything that happened. She looked up and relieved she watched as the bus arrived, made the stop and to her surprise and miracle, it stopped, opened its door and the driver looked at her with warning.

"The city is fucking mess!"

"I need to go!" She implored. "A woman as young and beautiful as you, you don't have to take a risk!"

"I don't care," the redhead said as she set foot on the first step.

The driver looked astonished at the woman and she took the coins from her coat bag. With her hand extended and the pile of coins in it, the driver accepted them, and a determined Grace took a seat in the first seats. He did not stop looking at her and when she discovered the surprise in that look, Grace saw him with a flaming despair.

"Drive!" She ordered. And stunned he obeyed the redhead's demands.

* * *

The local police swayed over Arthur as soon as his speech was cut from television. Fleck's hysterical laughter echoed in the whole place and both men subdued the clown, handcuffing him and dragging him into an area where he did not disturb anyone. They had requested reinforcements, even though Arthur was a man of worryingly thin complexion, what he had done shook more than one, including the police.

"For God sake, shut up!" One of them bellowed.

Arthur's chilling laughter did not stop, and he realized that it was not that laugh that always avoided flowing. It was a different laugh and it was gratifying. The police listened to their radios and paid attention to what they said. The city was upside down, people were out of control and Arthur, hearing it, felt amazed. They locked him in his dressing room, a patrol would be late to arrive for him and they prepared to safeguard the place, since several of the Protestants demanded his presence.

Grace arrived in the center of the city, got out of the bus and when she saw the storm passing over the city, she decided to run to the place of the program. The disaster that the people caused had achieved more than a shout in her, the violence and madness were to be feared. The redhead arrived on the show and in panic discovered the Protestants off-site and crying out for her hero:

"Free the clown!" Free the clown!

She looked everywhere, most of the guards secured the main entrance and there she knew she had to manage to enter. The redhead tried to make a place among the crowd and looked for the best possible entrance. She discovered an alley and headed there, praying that they would not observe her. Grace found one of the entrances to the building and for her joy it was open. She entered and with the fortune on her side the hall was empty. She walked to the first part that occurred to her and began her search for Arthur.

* * *

As she walked hurriedly to the distance, she heard that laugh. Grace ran, the noise that her heels created combined with that laugh, and upon hearing it closer she reached the dressing room door and Arthur's laughs were powerful. Grace took the knob and realized it was locked. She insisted but everything was useless.

"Arthur!" She shouted; the laughter did not stop.

Grace looked everywhere and discovered a desk in the distance, moved away from the door and went to that place to find anything to open that door. She removed the papers and materials and found a set of keys. The redhead took it, as if the Holy Grail were, and returned to the door. She looked for the key indicated and grateful she found the one that opened the door.

The shrieking sound of the door made Arthur's laugh diminish. The redhead's nerves intensified; Arthur lay lying down a mirror where a: "Put on a happy face" stood out.

"A-Arthur," She called in a trembling voice. The laugh turned to normal and he looked away. "Arthur?"

Grace ducked and controlling her nerves she approached a little. Arthur did not look at her; she noticed how his suit was untucked, his hair was ruffled, and his body was shaking. The redhead stretched out her hands and placed it on one of Arthur's. He slightly moved his gaze and saw that thin, soft hand.

"Arthur!"

"Grace?" He asked strangely. "Yes Arthur, it's me ..." The redhead crawled and stuck to him. "Arthur ... Why?"

He turned and they both looked at each other. Arthur's makeup was vanishing, and half of his face was adorned with Murray's blood. Grace's eyes covered in tears and the raw silence that accompanied them was followed by the echo of the people asking for his freedom. Arthur showed a lost look and saw at the distance.

"Do you listen?" He asked "They know ... They know about me ... They know what I've done." The redhead brought her free hand over her mouth and tears began to fall. "Arthur ... Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded in anguish. Why?!" He let out a giggle and looked at Grace smiling. "Does it matter now?"

The giggle increased and she shivered. Slowly she released her hand and horrified she accepted that he had fallen into a spiral of madness. Grace got on her knees and just watched a hysterical Arthur. As the laughter covered the place again, a policeman arrived and looked at the open door. He got ready with his gun and sneaked in to watch a paralyzed woman next to that madman.

"Freeze!" He screams. Grace and Arthur looked up. "Miss, how did you get in here?!" He asked furiously.

Trembling Grace could not answer, and Arthur looked closely. The policeman approached and kept pointing at the clown. Near both, he stretched out his hand towards the redhead who looked at him in confusion. She was lost, looking for a reason for this moment, but it was inadmissible. Seconds later, Grace took that hand and the guard raised her, Arthur looked confused at the moment and taking advantage of the man's weakness, struck his arm and took his gun.

He got up, aimed at the policeman and in the blink of an eye pulled the trigger and shot him in the throat. Grace's scream of horror rumbled on those four walls, Arthur approached the fallen body and gave another shot, piercing the man's chest.

"Arthur, no!" She pleaded.

A cynical smile was drawn on Fleck's face, he turned and saw how Grace was attached to the wall, crying uncontrollably. He approached her and took her wrist, clinging to him. The redhead shuddered at such an act and her glazed gaze was observed next to those bright and psychotic eyes.

"Arthur, please!" She screamed "Please, stop!"

He ignored the redhead's pleas, looked at the door and they both left willing to flee from that place. They were walking at an accelerated pace down the huge hallway, Grace felt a slight discomfort in her belly and frightened she begged Arthur to stop. He turned to see his couple and those cheeks looked a worrying red. They stopped and Grace leaned against the wall, placing her hands under her belly. Her breathing was agitated, the discomfort did not seem to be worrisome, but he was afraid. Too much fear. Arthur looked confused at Grace, she was clinging to her stomach and he frowned. The redhead raised her tearful gaze and contemplated a genuine concern on that psychotic face.

The screams of the people demanded their new leader. Arthur listened to them and wanted to go with them, but that red-haired woman, who had saved her, and she had given him genuine affection, understanding and love, like no one in this society, made him stop. He approached her, placed her hands on her chin and Grace, looking at the gun he had not left, put her hands-on Arthur's wrists, afraid that something would happen.

They looked at each other, Grace's breaths stirred, and her eyes had been injected into blood. Arthur stroked her delicate cheeks with his thumbs and tried to ask for an explanation, which did not appear to arrive. She armed herself with courage, despite all the madness and chaos around her, she had to say it:

"Arthur ..." She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

The concern that had been covered that make-up face became a bitter tension. Had he listened well? That night he had not only released his deepest being, he made society, which always ignored him, remember who he was. And hearing that phrase completely paralyzed him. Grace appreciated Arthur's stressed face; the news had been a blow to him. Maybe something would change in his being, although nothing was certain. She led her hands over that face and kissed him. Arthur did not react to what was happening and while Grace clung to him, a new pain arrived. She abruptly let go of Arthur and passed her hands to her belly, a groan came, and the redhead slid to the floor, still crying and complaining.

Arthur was quiet and a new pair of police arrived, raised their weapons and saw the woman writhing in pain. One of them pounced on that clown, managing to disarm it and the other approached Grace, who pleaded for help, repeating the fact of her pregnancy. Arthur did not resist the arrest and when he raised it, he points his gaze on the desperate redhead.

Upon leaving the premises, Arthur looked at all those people who lay on his side, whom hysteria seized them, and they demanded his freedom. The little reason that lingered in his head slowly consumed him with what he looked at. They loved him, for the first time they appreciated him, and that made his smile widen on a large scale.

"Damn phenomenon, look what you did!" The policeman exclaimed. "I know ... isn't it beautiful?" He replied with that crazy expression.

The rest of the police prevented people from approaching him, and so they put him on patrol to take him to prison. Most protesters ran after the patrol, raising all their posters and instruments to demand their release. And through the glass, Arthur saw his followers with a great laugh at the same time he observed the hell he had created.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	18. Chapter XVIII

**XVIII.**

The little things that Grace remembered was how the cops drove Arthur away from her. The pain in her belly intensified and she begged the officers to help her. She was scared for her future baby. An ambulance and the coroners were slow in coming, Grace remained on the floor squeezing the policeman's arm and praying that nothing bad would happen. The paramedics arrived, approached her and listened as she repeated the fact of, she was pregnant. From that moment, the redhead's mind was wrapped in a large cloud, losing consciousness of the rest of that fateful night.

* * *

Gotham City was marked. The anarchy that abounded all that night created a full stop in the political and social situation. People overcame their anger at being ignored to create justice by their own hand, lowered the ideals of that Joker, the true leader of this change.

Grace opened her eyes suddenly; the incandescent light created a pain in there and raised her hands to avoid that illumination. She blinked rapidly and her vision cleared, a white room began to form, and she felt her body lying on a bed. She looked around and noticed her left arm connected to a serum bag, and more confused than she already was, she tried to get up from where she was, managing to be stopped by a nurse.

"Mrs., calm down."

"What...? Where...?" She snapped confused. "You're in the hospital. Your condition is delicate, please lie down and relax."

"Hospital?" She whispered. "Arthur? Where is Arthur?" She asked the nurse as she took her arm. "Is he your husband?" She asked confused. Grace blinked again and pondered what happened last night. "Mrs.?"

Suddenly she placed her hands on her belly and her breathing stirred.

"My baby ..." she whispered, however, the nurse understood her. "Calm down. You suffered a threat of abortion and if you continue to alter yourself, you will lose your baby." Grace looked surprised at the nurse, who was changing her serum bag and seemed not to understand the words mentioned by her. "I did not lose him?"

"No ma'am, as I told you, it was a threat of abortion. You saw herself back in a very crazy situation which altered your stress levels and created abdominal spasms; they can cause a true abortion, so, I repeat you, rest. Be relaxed so you can go home soon."

"Thank you," she said with a long, gratifying sigh. The young nurse smiled once she finished accommodating the serum, and while Grace was laying on the pillows, into her mind had just arrived at what had happened on that horrific night before. "Nurse!" She exclaimed and looked worried. "Last night, about last night ..."

"Don't worry," she replied with a daunting smile.

Grace looked terrified at the nurse. She finished checking everything and before leaving again, questioned the name she had mentioned. The redhead suddenly changed her countenance, denied slightly and leaned back on the pillows. The young nurse worried and analyzed the woman severely.

"Mrs., anyone to whom we can report your stay?"

She looked at a fixed point in the room, her blinking lightened up as her mind questioned who they could call. Moments later she remembered someone and looking calmly at the nurse gave her a phone number. The nurse noted and withdrew, leaving Grace wrapped in solitude.

The sound of her breaths echoed in the room, she felt weak but grateful that her pregnancy continued. And while her head tried to clear herself, the image of Arthur arrived. That unbalanced look, the make-up and blood spilling down his face and his laugh. That laugh. That one who once she let go and seemed to understand it, but no. She had never done it.

The redhead continued to remember Arthur and what he had done broke her heart. A few tears slid on her red cheeks, however, she agreed to control herself, she had to be calm or her pregnancy would not form. Between her breaths, she felt the need to go to the bathroom and when she got up with difficulty she went to the bathroom and did her necessities. When she finished and left, Grace watched the television and turned it on. The first image that appeared was that of the news and the tragic events of last night. The redhead turned up the volume and took a seat at the edge of the stretcher, to pay attention to the facts.

"And continuing with the unfortunate events of last night, the city reports damages in thousands of dollars; an estimated two thousand people injured, one hundred and eighty dead, in which the candidate for mayor of the city is counted; Thomas Wayne with his wife ..."

"It's impossible!" She exclaimed in horror.

"Is survives his son, Bruce Wayne, who witnessed the murder of his parents during the events perpetrated directly and indirectly by the murderer, Arthur Fleck, who is known under the alias of the Joker and committed homicide in the program, Live with Murray Franklin, killing the homonymous host."

The reporter's image was changed to show the images that occurred in Franklin's program. Arthur shone with his impeccable makeup and elegant, and very cheap, suit. It appeared when he had his notebook in hand and read his jokes, the images changed at the time of his revelation, when he confessed to be the murderer of the three man in the subway and as his heated argument with Murray increased to finally raise his gun and shoot him on his forehead. Grace bit her index finger while the moment was remembered. The crying returned with her and she lowered her gaze as Arthur's voice and confessions covered the room.

* * *

"Grace!" She listened and looked up. "Mr. Kersh!" She said relieved.

The old man came in and approached her, who tears came again.

"My god, child, what happened to you?!"

"Mr. Kersh ..." she released in anguish. He took her hands and tried to comfort her. "Grace, calm down." He held a hand over her reddish hair and comforted her like a little girl. The sobs calmed down, but it was hard for her to say a word. "Good. Everything is going to be ok." He took her head and laid it to his chest.

After a while, Grace managed to control herself, she separated from the comfort Mr. Kersh had granted her and looked at him, her eyes red and swollen.

"Mr. Kersh ..." She stopped and appreciated how the man wore a gauze on his gray hair, one of his eyes was purple, but covered in a good make-up. "What happened to you?!" She asked in amazement. "It was last night ... in my neighborhood everything got awful and I tried to defend what is mine ... this was the result."

"This became crazy ... everything and ..." She stopped, did not have the courage to mention the rest. Mr. Kersh patted his back and looked sadly at Grace, knowing what she meant.

He respected the redhead's anguish, made no mention of him. He had seen what happened on television, from the first moment he knew that clown was Grace's couple and noticed that something was not going well with him, until his true being appeared.

* * *

The atmosphere subsided. Grace received her food and Mr. Kersh stayed by his side.

"Child," he called, "why are you here? What happened to you?" She passed her food and looked seriously at the man. "I looked for him," she confessed. Grace noticed how the flames covered those old eyes. "I had to see him, Mr. Kersh, I wanted to know why ..."

"And he told you?" She denied. "Grace, you risked your life, for nothing?" He was scolding. "I needed to talk to him, tell him that ..." She snapped and resumed her food. Mr. Kersh frowned. "Told him what?" The redhead kept eating and he got fed up. "Grace?" She put aside her fork, sighed bitterly and looked at Mr. Kersh. "I'm pregnant..."

A bitter silence reached the room, Mr. Kersh's skin paled suddenly, and Grace avoided eye contact and kept eating. The redhead's chewing was what broke the silence and she expected claim, but nothing came. She watched old Mr. Kersh out of the corner of her eye and began to feel anxious, put aside her fork and stared at him.

"Say it," she said with voice broken. "Say it ... how I was able to get pregnant." Mr. Kersh blinked, let out a sad sigh and took the redhead's hand. He looked at her with a thin, fatherly smile, nodded slightly and patted his hand. "How long have you been pregnant?"

"I don't know ... I discovered it yesterday, maybe its three weeks but ... I'm at risk of losing it."

"He knows?"

"Yes..."

"And he said something?" She denied. "Did he cause your state?"

"According to the nurse, it was stress ... Seeing everything that happened in the city and what he did ..." She brought her hands to her face and try to control herself. "My God ... everything he did."

"Don't get upset, don't think about it anymore. You need to rest, think about the baby that is on its way."

Grace inhaled and exhaled, tried to control herself and pay attention to the words everyone was saying. Despite all the hell lived, there was an opportunity for her baby to be able to continue and she would do everything possible because it was.

* * *

The prison stay was short for Arthur and everything that happened last night went through his mind like a movie. One which loved to repeat countless times. Seeing how the people exalted him, everything he had accomplished and seeing the chaos sown had moved his entire world. The taste of iron was impregnated in his mouth, it was delicious. The cries of the people were still loud in his head and sometimes he laughed until he gets tired.

He was soon taken to the Arkham psychiatric hospital upon learning of his medical history. In prison, Fleck would be a danger to other inmates and the security of the place. They stripped him of his beloved red suit and bathed him with hoses, undoing everything that adorned his face. The green of his hair endured, as did his laughs when he felt the frozen of the water. The clothes of the place were given to him, it took time to get dressed and his skin had frozen. And once he saw himself presentable, he was handcuffed and dragged to the documentation area, where he was seated with a lost look and a terrifying smile, he heard the psychiatrist ask him questions.

"Fleck, Arthur. Thirty-five years. I see that social security used to cover your medication," he snorted. "How far did your studies go?" He did not answer, and the doctor looked impatient. "How far?"

"Tenth grade."

"Family members?"

"My mother. She died, I killed her." The doctor looked up and saw him with repulsion. "Married?" He denied. "Any children?" Arthur froze for a few seconds and then let out a laugh and looked at the doctor. "Maybe..."

"What do you mean about maybe?" And he shrugged amusedly. "God ... you are the worst that has come to Arkham." He started laughing and boasted about the comment. "Thank you ... it's the best thing someone have been tell me this day."

"In a single day you forged a long criminal record, hopefully, and they will give you the death penalty."

"It will be interesting to see."

Arthur kept laughing while he saw the doctor. He swallowed hard and continued filling out the form, however, the laugh never stopped. There was no time for him to stop it.

* * *

A week and a half later, Grace left the hospital. Being out of the place and looking at the city, she noticed how it had changed radically; seeing everything in the news was one thing but living it on its own made everything different. The garbage, which at the time were bags, now ran through the desecrated streets and between walls discovered graffiti with the image that Arthur had used that night; he was the new symbol of this city. Arthur Fleck, the Joker, was the new ruler of Gotham City.

"My child," she heard behind her. Mr. Kersh took her by the waist and carried her suitcase. "Everything is fine?"

"Yeah ... yeah. I want to go home." And both continued walking towards the bus stop.

They arrived at the apartment, the bags were left in the armchair and Grace have a seat next to them. Mr. Kersh looked at the redhead, who with a lost look she watched the television.

"You need something?"

"No, I don't. I want to be alone, Mr. Kersh. Just for a while."

"All right. I will go home; I will bring you a little pantry and I will come at night. Repose, is mandatory." She nodded and took Mr. Kersh's hand. "Thank you," she said, with a teary look.

The man patted those hands and with a smile left the apartment. Once alone, Grace continued to stare at the switched off device, blinking slowly until she set her gaze on the VCR. She got up and went to her and checked if the VHS was still there. Surprised she felt it. She turned on the device and at the same time the TV and watched the interrupted signal. The VHS did not stop recording, the whole program was recorded. She reversed the tape and the inverted image of Arthur, shooting at Murray, passed quickly as if fixing the past was.

She stopped the tape as soon as Arthur began to spit his anger out of society, looked into his eyes, those gray eyes she had loved so much, shone in an insane glow. She kept backing away until she stopped at a point where Arthur saw his notebook. Grace looked at his face, there was something about him that made him create that full stop. She felt like a melancholy and madness sheltered him. Grace raised her hands and gathered them to the screen and the tears, which she had felt she no longer had, came up again. The redhead tried to press her screen and ducked her face. She wanted to understand him, she really wanted to do it. How many times had she told him that if he needed to speak, she would be for him? And he never did. He never spoke. He let his worst thoughts act. And the reality acted. At that moment on the screen, Arthur had died, just at that moment, ceased to exist and gave life to that new being, who was all idolized as Joker.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	19. Chapter XIX

**XIX.**

**4 months later.**

Grace lay on her bed, slept and hugged one of the pillows while her breaths were deep. A kind of flutter arose inside her belly, she opened her eyes and sat on the bed to bring her hands to that place.

"You move a lot," she said sleepily. "What's wrong?"

She stroked her bulging belly and that curious wiggle intensified. The baby was already entering week twenty of his process and the doctor told her that she would begin to feel his movements. The redhead yawned and got up from the bed to go to the bathroom, while sensation that feeling inside her. In the bathroom, Grace heard her phone ring, she snorted bitterly and let it go on. When she got out of there, she leaned over the door frame and looked down the hall that led to the living room; the phone did not stop until the answering machine came in:

"Good morning, Miss Davis. I'm lawyer Cane." She growled at the name. That person was the one who represented Arthur at his trial. Grace walked away from the place and drove to her room, letting the message go on, "my call is to request you an urgent appointment at my office and it's about Mr. Fleck." The redhead stopped under the lintel. "You missed my calls, miss, but I really need to talk to you. Mr. Fleck's last trial is next week and ... I really need to talk to you. You have my number, please contact me as soon as you can. I'll see you soon."

A bitter sigh was the only thing she could do and willing to return to bed, heard a knock at her door.

"Can't be possible..."

She put her hands behind her back and headed for the entrance. The redhead looked in the peephole and noticed a young man, perhaps her age with a mahogany coat, good suit and a severe attitude. Grace shuddered, opened the door as far as the lock allowed it and in the darkness of the place, that man distinguished the woman.

"Good morning, Miss Grace Davis?"

"How I can help you?"

"I'm Detective Gordon ..." he said. She shivered and slammed the door, stunned the man. "Miss Davis?"

"Please, go away!" She exclaimed. "Months ago, I made my statements!"

"I know, miss ... ah ... listen. I don't come directly from the police department, I come on my own and ..."

"I already did my statements!" She insisted. "Miss ..." He sighed sourly, brought his fist to the door and let go: "Arthur Fleck left something for you."

Grace was surprised at that revelation. Anguish covered her face, bit her lower lip and struggled to open her door. Detective Gordon stood firm, not moving a muscle until the click of the door rang again. He moved away a few centimeters and saw the redhead, giving him access to her home. Gordon thanked and entered, waiting for her to close the door and offer him a seat.

* * *

Jim Gordon was waiting patiently in the chair, put aside his files and analyzed the place without much care. Grace prepared some coffee for the man, in which she served herself a fruit juice, at the time she looked sideways at the detective, discovering her bad analysis. Listening to the kettle, Grace poured the water and ready the cup to return to the living room.

Seeing how she was heading with two cups, Gordon got up from his place and assisted the redhead, discovering her pregnancy. Noticing how he looked at her, Grace tried to hide her belly between her long sweaters. It was already late, he knew it.

"Please, have a seat," she offered. The detective returned to his place as she addressed the individual sofa. "Thank you very much." He sipped his coffee and placed it on the table. "Mrs.?" He questioned. Grace looked at him and nodded. "All right..."

"What did he leave me?" She demanded. "Well ..."

"It was a lie, right?"

"No, it wasn´t. He leaved anything for you but first I want to explain my visit." The detective put his hands together and exhaled as best he could, in what he thought with which words to begin. "I am one of those who have the case of Arthur Fleck, and one of my tasks is to try to understand the suspect better."

"Are you a kind of psychiatrist too?"

"No, not really. I must look for a way to understand what motivated the person to do what he did, try to know his actions. And Arthur Fleck is hard for me to understand." The redhead made no expression, took some of her juice and continued listening to the detective. "When Fleck was investigated for the murders at the subway station, my co-works Garrity and Burke were much exhorted to him. Burke, who trained me, came to give me advice to understand the actions of a criminal, knowing that he could not understand Arthur Fleck."

"And you think I can help you with it?" She asked wryly and he watched her with some hope. Grace let out a small chuckle and set her glass on the table. "Detective, I couldn't understand him either, I tried but I didn't achieve anything."

Gordon clenched his lips, looked at his folder and took him in search of what he needed. Grace frowned and saw how he took out a notebook from that folder. It was Arthur's notebook. Her nerves betrayed her, and the detective took his eyes to her.

"Do you recognize it?" She nodded. "It has a dedication to you."

The detective extended his arm and placed the notebook near her. Grace looked at it really scared, that notebook was more wrinkled than she remembered, it looked very careless and worn out, the detectives probably passed their hands and read their contention to the exhaustion.

"Did you ever read this notebook?"

"No ... he always wrote on it, he used to tell me that he wrote down his jokes ... He never allowed me to look at it."

"In part it is right. There are jokes, several, not very good. However, I would like you to read the notebook. He really left it for you."

He insisted on giving it to her and Grace, with endless emotions stuck in her chest, raised her hand and took it. When he felt the rough cover, her nerves intensified. That notebook was a primordial part of him, and as her fingers tightened harder and harder, she could feel him. Grace swallowed hard and opened the cover to bump into his writings. Grace looked several photographs, some erotic but she let it pass; she read certain words that goose bumps her skin. Arthur's deepest and disturbing desires were revealed in this notebook, and with every bitter and painful word, Grace avoided shedding her tears. She continued reading, and in the last pages she found what the detective had told her. Arthur had really left that notebook for her.

"Grace, you once told me that when I felt confident enough, I would tell you the reason for my laughter. There are many things that I did not have the courage to tell you, all of them you will have seen in this notebook, and it is only a bit of my true feeling. I wanted to keep you by my side and if I told you, you would walk away and ignore me. Like everyone around. I always had confidence and now, I leave you this notebook as proof of who I really am. I am not that Arthur you think you know. Please do not walk away. You are the little good thing that has happened to me in life. Stay by my side. I love you."

The redhead's green eyes were covered in a crystalline blanket, she closed the notebook and placed it on the table, bringing her hands over both eyes to prevent that blanket from spreading. Detective Gordon analyzed the woman, sought a serene and firm stance, but seeing her breaking something prevented him.

"Why do you show me this now?" She asked furiously. "Beforehand, I apologize. You were one, or the only person attached to him. If I showed you this, you could help me understand Arthur Fleck better."

Grace rubbed her palms on her cheeks, which turned red and brought one of her hands over her belly as she felt the baby's movement.

"I thought I understood him," she spoke. "I really thought I did. He never told me anything, I tried but his lips remained sealed until he did what he did on that TV show. Every night I wonder why, but never came up with a concrete answer. The most feasible, he was not fine."

"If you had learned of his condition, would you still be by his side?"

"I would have supported him to continue with his treatment but ... that was not what he wanted. That night, it was the best night for him, he released what he always kept locked up. His true being ..." Grace Bit one of her fingers and tears continued to flow. "Excuse me detective, I can't help you," she said as she handed him the notebook. He looked at her and sighed sadly. "Keep it."

"It is an evidence."

"I won't need it anymore." Grace snorted and set the notebook on the table. "Next week is the last trial. He will be sentenced to death penalty." At those words Grace's gaze snapped open. "You did not know it?"

"No ... I haven't been paying attention to the trial."

"Didn't Mr. Fleck's lawyer look for you?" She did not answer. "If he has done so, take the call. I must not say this, but he will want you to be the only witness who speaking well of him." Gordon got up and adjusted his sack. "I see you still feel something for him. Why?" He asked, hoping to find an answer.

"Because I did something that nobody ever did for him. I accompanied him in good times and bad times, I always tried to support him, care about him and he was the only one who really give me love, in his own way… and I loved him. I love him as you have no idea and now, I will have a son from him."

An awkward silence fell on both. Grace watched the man with a sad smile, Gordon nodded and buttoned his coat, thinking he understood Fleck's wandering mind a little. And he prepared to retire.

"Thank you very much for your help, ma'am. Do not bother to accompany me, I will go to the exit. Good day."

The detective withdrew from the apartment and upon hearing the door close, Grace let the tears finish coming out and her crying covered her home.

* * *

Grace looked at the lawyer Cane's office, the place was full of boxes and files and a certain suffocation reached her. She took the collar of her blouse and fanned at a great speed.

"Do you want me to open the window?" Asked the lawyer, who was next to her. "Please," she said with a nervous smile. "Sure!" He went to a window and opened it, entering the cold air of the season. The redhead thanked with a slight gesture and the man sat down in front of her. "I know this is none of my business but ... how long you been pregnant?"

"Soon it will be five months."

"Congratulations," he said with a fake smile. "Lawyer, I don't want you to use my pregnancy as an argument to soften the jury. Very few people know it and I want to keep it as discreet as possible."

"I will respect your decision."

"Thank you..."

"Well, Mrs. Davis, thank you very much for agreeing to come to my office. I suppose you know that Arthur Fleck will be to sentence him to the death penalty." She nodded calmly. "Okay ... we have looked for witnesses who speak well of Mr. Fleck, and as you might imagine, there was no one to speak for him. Only one of his work colleagues could speak well of him but he moved away from this and I had to respect his decision. You were his couple for a long time."

"Yes..."

"I only need a testimony, yours, to be able to leave Arthur Fleck free from the death penalty and be locked in Arkham until the end of his days."

"Locked up, huh?"

"It will be the best for him. We know that Mr. Fleck's mental condition is not the best, and when you speak well of him to the jury, he will have the safe pass to the psychiatric. Where he always should have been.

"I will do it..."

"Thanks Mrs."

"One question, will he be at the trial?"

"Not likely. Last time he almost killed a guard."

"It's okay. Tell me where we should start."

* * *

The day of the trial, Grace arrived earlier than agreed with the lawyer and when she was looking at the place her surprise was enormous to see the number of people protesting the release of Arthur. The same people who let themselves be influenced by the chaos were there, with their clown masks and claiming the freedom of their representative:

"Free the clown!" Free our leader!"

The redhead felt a hand rest on her shoulder and surprised looked at lawyer Cane.

"Here, ma'am, if we enter that place, we will not get survive."

She nodded and followed the path indicated by the lawyer. When the chills entered to her, next to the baby movements, the redhead was looking for control. For the good of both.

"Do you remembered everything that will answer to my questions and those of the opposite?"

"Yes, I do."

"Perfect. Relax Mrs., I need you firm."

"I am trying."

The two walked and arrived at the courtroom where the trial would take place and, before entering, one of the guards stopped the lawyer and both looked at him.

"They brought your client," he said, and Grace froze. "Why?" He asked surprised. "He was suspended, the judge no longer requested him."

"As today is the last trial, they asked him to listen to his sentence."

"Shit," the man whispered, who quickly looked at the woman. "Is there a problem if Arthur Fleck is there?" She denied nervously. "Perfect."

The lawyer opened the doors, began to take steps through the courtroom and Grace watched Arthur. After four months she saw him again. He was giving the back and smoked quietly. His clothes were all white and his hair had regained his tone. Grace sat down behind him and fear covered her. The lawyer crossed the door to take place on his side and politely greeted Fleck, who, as always, did not respond. Cane talked and talked, and Arthur ignored him. The redhead never took her eyes off him and at the weight of her gaze, he slowly turned his head and looked at her.

The two looked at each other, those four months had been decades for both. Instinctively, Grace covered herself with her huge coat and Arthur looked down at her belly. She tightened her coat and looked back at those green eyes. There were no expressions from both, and Arthur looked back to the front, continue smoking. Grace swallowed hard and began to pray for this to end. The trial was slow to begin and the judge, of arrogant bearing and hard character, arrived to begin the last trial he would attend to that man. The lawyer Cane went to the front along with his rival to give the news of a new witness.

"Please come in here, witness Grace Davis," she heard. She got up and breathed as deeply as she could. She reached the podium and proclaimed the oath to the truth. She sat down and waited for the lawyer to start his questions.

Cane's interrogation focused on showing the human side of Arthur Fleck. Grace was a "survivor" in his life, the perfect specimen to save his client's neck. The questions were answered calmly and avoiding eye contact in him, who did not stop smoking and laugh with a certain sneer. At the end of lawyer Cane, the next lawyer continued, who would insist on sending Fleck to death penalty.

"Miss Davis," he called. She thanked herself that he didn't notice the pregnancy." Why should we consider leaving Arthur Fleck in the comfort of the Arkham psychiatric?"

"Objection, he's harassing my client."

"Overruled. Answer Miss." She swallowed again, clenched her lips and looked thoughtful. "Miss?"

"I..."

"You?"

"Your honor, he is pressing my client."

"Arthur," she said, "is a person who suffered the worst of society could give. Arthur was ignored, humiliated and attacked of the condition he presented."

"A delusion of madness are not a condition, miss."

"Regardless of that, lawyer, Arthur didn't deserve to be treated as he was. In that TV show he was invited to be mocked, without even caring what he might feel. I do not justify their actions, but I do with their catalysts. Perhaps, if this society were willing to spend some time learning to listen and understand someone who seems to be different from one, things would not go out of control as we are living now. Our society, the rich, the poor are a cause of it. We don't deserve be ignored for anything."

Most of the jury frowned at the redhead's words, the lawyer raised one of his eyebrows and withdrew. There was no more to ask.

The verdict was slow to arrive.

"How do you consider the accused?"

"We consider Arthur Fleck guilty of the homicide acts committed and the violence generated in the city." Grace brought her hands to her face. "But we have decided that Mr. Fleck remains locked in Arkham's psychiatric hospital for the rest of his life."

Relief came in the redhead and the lawyer, while Arthur smoked, and a slight smile was drawn on his face.

* * *

Upon leaving the courthouse, Grace watched as the guards led a cuffed Arthur. Curious she followed them and when they set foot outside the place, the protesting people watched their hero leave. Everyone shouted with fervor, anger and admiration, they wanted their leader, but it was still difficult for them. Arthur looked at the entire crowd, the clown masks and the posters with the symbol he had created, formed a big smile on his face. He stopped his walk and raised his hands to bless his followers and the cries of victory were louder.

Arthur's laugh came up, he boasted about what he had achieved and the attention that the people finally gave him. And as this moment passed, Grace watched in horror as that man, who was maintaining his love for him, began a new era in the Gotham City. Arthur turned and with that smile he looked at her beloved; this was just the beginning. The cops took Arthur to the patrol car, who accelerated when they saw all the people coming over the car.

Grace brought her hands to her belly, feeling her baby move at what had just happened. She promised herself that she would take care of her future son and not let anything bad happen to him, her son would be the happiest little boy in the world.

And Arthur was looking through the glass at all those people running after the patrol, letting his laughter be heard through all the streets of the city, which would soon know his new future under the orders of the Joker.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	20. Chapter XX

**XX.**

**5 years later.**

Grace looked at her wristwatch, huffed and puffed in annoyance and lay her head in the window of the bus where she was. She stares and appreciated how some men, in the neighboring seat, watched her in a stalking manner. She felt the chills run through her body, pretended not to have noticed them and waited for the road to end soon.

She spotted her stop, got up quickly from the seat and went down, feeling those piercing glances. The bus drove away, and she adjusted her coat and walked to her destination. The redhead glanced at the streets, despite all these years, Gotham City had become a hell on earth. From the incidents in which the city burned; thus, baptized by the media, the flames could not be extinguished. What the Joker had accomplished left a people marked who, under his ideals, followed his word as faithful devotees.

At an accelerated pace, the redhead arrived at her destination, the preschool of the city. She entered the garden and when she looked at one of the teachers, she greeted her with a big smile.

"Mrs. Davis!"

"Hello Miss Ellis," she replied. "I come for my child."

"Sure ma'am, come in, Artie is waiting for you. Today he got two little stars." Grace outlined a wonderful smile. "Two little stars?"

"Yes! One for his drawings and one for good behavior."

The two entered the building and walking down the hall, the need to see his son emerged. She listened to the laughter and the happy shrieks of the children, hastened her steps and, upon arriving at the classroom, distinguished in the window his little son playing with his classmates. The class teacher attended to several children when she noticed her workmate and her companion.

"Hi, good morning, Mrs. Davis."

"Good morning, Miss Kyle." Miss Ellis said goodbye and resumed her work. Miss Kyle approached Grace and called Artie, who quickly turned around and with a big smile, looked at his mother. "Mommy!"

The little boy got up from his chair and ran to hug his mother. Grace knelt, spread her arms and wrapped her son in a warm hug, kissed her chestnut and wavy hair and the joy emanated from her son made her withering day shine.

"Mommy!" He called as he raised his head, brought his little finger to his forehead and saw the two decals of little stars. His eyes, of a light grayish color, emerged an unsurpassed glow. "Look, two little stars."

"Yes Artie, Miss Ellis told me. You behaved very well today," she said full of pride. "Yeah! I also drew and my drawings liked Miss Kyle."

"Oh, my love, I want to see what you drew. Go for them and your backpack, okay?"

The little one quickly affirmed, turned around and ran for his things. Grace stood up, shook her skirt and looked at the teacher, who maintained a tender smile.

"Thank you for today, Miss."

"Don't thank me Mrs. Davis. Artie is a very good boy."

The little boy arrived, he carried his small backpack in his hand and in the other his drawings, he handed his mother the papers and she looked it sideways as she put his winter clothes on. Artie kept talking about what he had done today in kindergarten, Grace raised the closure of her jacket, put his hat on then the scarf and finally the gloves and she smiled at the adventures her son was telling her.

"Say goodbye to Miss Kyle."

"See you on Monday, Miss!" He exclaimed as he said goodbye with his hand. "See you on Monday, Artie. And remember to bring your favorite toy to share it."

"Yes!"

Grace said goodbye to the teacher and they both left the building to go to the bus stop. Once they were both walking, the redhead held her son's hand firmly and he was jumping happily while singing a song that had been taught in class. Arriving at the corner, Artie suddenly stopped his happy moment when he noticed several people wearing clown masks adorning their faces. The little one began to shake, and Grace noticed it. She felt the fear harboring her, despite the years, those masks were still existing. Artie began to tremble and an expression for crying came up, Grace bent down, carried her son and leaned his head between her shoulder and neck.

"My love, nothing happens. They are not real clowns."

She heard Artie's sobs and certain people in that group looked at the redhead and her son. Feeling the frivolous glances, Grace appreciated how the traffic light had changed and walked quickly to get to the bus stop; Artie was afraid of clowns, and every time they ran into those kinds of people, he cried to see those masks or their painted faces.

They arrived at the bus stop and the bus arrived now. Grace thanked and got on, took a seat in mediation and began to comfort Artie to control. The boy carved his eyes, which were painted red by his tears, Grace smiled and attached her nose to his to rub them amusedly. Artie smiled and Grace remembered the drawings, opened the sheets and looked at everything he had done. She began to ask how he had decided to color a lion, a house and other things and Artie was entertained all the way telling her the realization of his drawings.

* * *

They arrived at home. Grace had moved to apartments far from the metropolis, almost outside the city, when Artie was born. For more security. The place was a little smaller than where she used to live, but for her and her son it was perfect. Artie threw her backpack on the couch, began to take off all her winter clothes and Grace put her coat aside.

"Mommy, will we go to the zoo tomorrow?"

"Sure honey, I had already promised you. And you deserve it more for behaving well in kindergarten."

"Hurray!" He exclaimed happily as he sat on the couch. Grace smiled warmly. "I want to see the lions! And your mommy?"

"I want to see the bears," she said as she sat beside him. "Me too!" The little boy pounced on his mother and hugged her. Grace did not avoid smiling and hugged him. Artie was her adoration and her reason for living.

Artie was watching television in what Grace was preparing the dinner. The little boy sang and played next to Sesame Street and, sometimes, the redhead watched him. Artie always a very cheerful child. While the meat and vegetables were fried, the doorbell rang, and the chills invaded Grace. She pushed the pan away from the fire and took a small knife, which she hid in the bag of her apron. She walked nervously to the door and through the peephole she distinguished the old Mr. Kersh. She sighed with relief and removed the insurance.

"Mr. Kersh," she greeted with a gentle smile. "Glad to see you."

"How are you, my child? It had been a long time since I gave you a visit."

"All is pretty fine. Come in, I was just preparing dinner." The old man entered, and Artie looked astonished at the visitor. "Grandpa!" He exclaimed as he got up from the ground. He ran to him and hugged him. "Oh, Artie! You grew faster, you almost knocked me out."

The little boy laughed and led his grandfather Bob to take a seat next to him on the couch. Grace left the knife in the kitchen and went to the living room to talk to Mr. Kersh for a moment, but it was impossible, Artie kept telling him about everything he had done. The old Mr. Kersh took a moment of calm to give the boy a gift, excited Artie took his gift and opened it with a lot of energy. The little boy finished unwrapping the gift and looked at a pack of cars.

"How do you say, Artie?" Grace said as she sat down. "Thanks Grandpa Bob!" He exclaimed with a big smile. "I'm glad you liked it, little one."

Artie approached her mother and asked her to open the package, she did it and handed the carts to her son, who happily prepared to play carts on the carpet in the middle of the living room. Grace and Mr. Kersh smiled and began to talk.

"How is everything, child?"

"Good, Mr. Kersh. You know, I am working, Artie in preschool. Everything is going normal. And how are you doing in the city?" The man sighed bitterly, and she suspected it. "To say well is to deceive you. The city is bullshit since..." He stopped and looked awkwardly at the woman, "that."

"I know, it's similar here. Not as common as it will be there, but it is." She sighed and rested her arm on the edge of the chair." Everywhere is a crap."

Grace bit her lower lip and looked at her son who kept playing. She began to slightly move one of his legs and Mr. Kersh sensed it.

"Do you want to know about him?" She stopped her trembling and placed her gaze on the man. "He's still locked up, isn't he?" Mr. Kersh nodded calmly. "I have nothing to know."

"I noticed you anxious ... Grace, my child ..."

"No, Mr. Kersh, I'm not anxious."

"I understand how you feel. My concern is the same as yours, otherwise it would not have helped you move here. But I also understand that you share a very big bond with him."

"I know ... in the last five years, I've only been afraid. Afraid that one day he will find me and my son ... has you seen everything he has done in the city, hasn't you? I just want to believe he is still locked up. As I have always done ..."

"Three years ago, they tried to get him out of the psychiatric, remember?" She nodded. "His followers keep insisting." Mr. Kersh sighed and put his hands on his knees. "I don't want to scare you, but they say he enters and leaves that place as if nothing, as if it were his house. But they are rumors ..." Grace remained serious and he looked at her boy. "Don't bother for this, Artie looks a lot like him."

"I know..."

"He also has you resemble, but his is more prevails," the redhead nodded softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. After all, he is his son," she said seriously as she dropped her arm. She snorted and showed her best smile. "Are you staying for dinner with us?"

"If you wish so."

"Of course." She stood up and headed to finish dinner.

Dinner began, the conversations became calmer and focused on Artie, who loved to talk. And while dinner continued, outside the building where Grace live, there were two men guarding the place. They sat in the neighboring pavement and smoked quietly. Time passed and they watched as Mr. Kersh left the building, they waited for the man to walk away and they both looked at each other.

"Call the boss," one of them released. The other nodded and went to a public telephone.

* * *

It was bath time, Artie played with her new cars and other toys in the tub, and Grace was carving his hair and played with the foam to continue entertaining his child while singing his favorite lullaby:

"London Bridge is falling down, falling, falling down, London Bridge is falling down. My fair lady."

After the bath, the redhead wrapped her son in a towel and they go to bed, she put his pajamas on and went to the room ready for bedtime. Artie lay on his bed and Grace handed his favorite stuffed animal for that time, one of a bunny. She took the book they would read tonight, and the little boy settled into his mother's chest to look at the drawings in that book. Within fifteen minutes, Artie fell into the world of dreams and Grace accommodated him avoiding waking him.

Once his head was on the pillow, she put the book away and got ready to sleep. She settled next to her son and hugged him. As she watched him, she remembered what Mr. Kersh had mentioned to her, Artie was a vivid image of him. Maybe a little of her features combined with his, however, he represented his father a lot. Undoubtedly. She removed the hair that was in his son's face and he continued slept peacefully. Grace kissed his cheek and lay her forehead on the little head, so she closed her eyes and Grace tried to rest. Since Artie was born, sleeping had stopped being pleasant for her. Grace had only lived between mortifications and fears because he would be reappeared.

* * *

_**A/N:  
**  
__Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3_


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

A 1980 model and black Mercedes Benz lay parked outside the edifice. Cigarette smoke escaped through one of the rear windows while the pilot and co-pilot watched the entire place.

"Everything is clean, boss."

"Perfect. Even so, watch the area. This territory belongs to Falcone and we're not wanted for that treacherous bastard." Both nodded. "Flowers," he ordered. The copilot handed him a bouquet of fake flowers and he smiled. "All right. Today will be a great night."

The two men smiled, wishing him good luck and he got out of the car to head for the building. He entered the place and headed for the floor where Grace Davis's apartment was located.

The elevator doors opened and with a sublime elegance and pleasant smile, he left there and headed for the hall until he reached the indicated door. He stopped, adjusted the collar of his shirt also the buttons on his vest; he combed his green hair and prepared his best smile. From his coat bag he took out a knife and broke the bolt, discovered the chain and with amazing agility managed to remove it. He opened the door, entered and looked at the small place.

The decor was worthy of her, one half of cream wallpaper and the other brown. Most of the furniture was the same; like the dining room and one of the armchairs. He walked calmly and discovered the ledge, feeling curious he approached and looked at those photographs he knew in the past. And while he remembered the images, he stopped his gaze on a new photograph, one of a baby. He took the frame and marveled at that image. The baby was about a month old, his eyes were closed, he slept calmly and was covered in a blue blanket and wearing a light blue pajamas. That baby was his son. He looked up and saw the rest of the new photographs, all were of his son as the years went by until he stopped at the fifth image, the most recent. He returned the photo to his place, took that one and looked at his son next to his mother.

Grace was still just as beautiful. Her hair kept her tone like the orange of a dawn and her green eyes shone like gems. His cheeks widened; those images managed to put a smile on his face. He returned everything in his place and took a seat in the armchair in front of the TV, remembering that it was time for his favorite show, took the remote control and turned it on.

In the child's room, Grace perceived the sound of the television. She got up in horror and noticed how Artie tried to wake up. She snuggled her son and the little boy stayed asleep. The sound of the television was loud, and it could almost reach neighboring apartments. Grace got up from the bed and fear sheltered her, thinking who could have raided her house. She steeled herself and left the room, making sure Artie did not wake up.

The redhead closed the door lightly, looked down the hall and distinguished the light from the television. She took a deep breath and began to walk, and as she approached, she took one of her porcelain figures and squeezed it with tremendous force. Upon arrival she heard a laugh which froze her blood. That laugh so peculiar that she had not heard again in these five years. Grace took the last steps and as she left the hall, she looked at a man with green hair, smoking and watching the program on television.

Grace was paralyzed and when her body began to shake, she dropped the figure. The rumble caused him to turn around, and when he saw the terrified redhead, a huge smile emerged.

"A ... Arthur ..." she released in a voice.

"Grace, my love ... it's been too long." He looked back at the television and laughed again. "This program is very entertaining, but nobody compares to Murray, definitely." He brought his cigar to his mouth and got up from that place.

Grace watched him, Arthur wore the same makeup that had characterized him; a red suit next to a turquoise shirt and gold vest made him look elegant and scary. He put out his cigar on the table and approached her; Grace stepped back and ran into the wall. Arthur was less than thirty centimeters from her. He saw the terror that sheltered the woman and raised her hands to place them on her chin forcing her to look at him.

"Five years, my love. Five long years..."

"Arthur ..." He shut up her with a kiss. The redhead did not follow him, and he tasted those soft, full lips. He finished his kiss, he looked at her smiling and began to sway gently. "I brought you flowers," he said, pointing to the chair. The redhead did not stop shaking. "You want to see them?" She did not say anything. "Don't worry, don't fear me..."

"H-how did you fi-find me?"

"I have eyes in every corner of the city, Grace. And for a long time, I knew you lived here. Only that work had not allowed me to come see you both, until today."

"What do you want?" She asked in horror. "I come for you and our son." The redhead's eyes flew open, she put her hands-on Arthur's chest and began to shake it. "Arthur ... No ... Arthur, you should ..."

"Be locked up? That is not my thing anymore," they both started dancing in the middle of the place. "Have you seen everything I created in the city? I have forged a whole revolution, a new era." He lay his forehead in hers and they both looked at each other. "It isn't beautiful?" The redhead's lips trembled, she felt her throat close and he kissed her again. As he parted his lips, the strong breath hit Grace's face. "Take me to see my son." She refused and placed her hands-on Arthur's arms, insisting her refusal. "Grace ..."

The delusional and pleading look made the redhead succumb to the fear of what he could do. She dropped her arms; Arthur released her and watched her turn around. Grace walked down the hall and he followed her. She stopped her walk and looked at the white door.

"He is sleeping."

"It doesn't matter," he confessed anxiously.

Hiding her despair, Grace opened the door and they both entered the room. Arthur analyzed the small place, adorned suitable for a child. He stopped his eyes on the bed and was dazzled seeing his son in deep sleep. Grace watched Arthur and prepared for any outburst he could presented, but no, he was freezing. He was amazed. Slowly he went to bed and looked at his son better. It was very small, a fragile little thing with light brown and wavy hair. He looked at his childish face, sat next to him and raised his hand but Grace stopped him:

"Don't wake him up! He is afraid of clowns." Arthur put his hand in the air and finally stroked his cheek. The little boy moved a little and hid his face in his stuffed animal. "What is his name?" The redhead swallowed hard and in a trembling voice replied. "Artie."

"Sounds like Arthur." He rubbed his hand over his brown hair and his admiration was indescribable.

Grace kept silent and prayed that her child would not wake up. Arthur placed his forehead on his son's head and a subtle and proud smile was his last action. He got up and looked at his terrified lover.

"He is beautiful. He definitely is." She nodded and crossed her arms. "Yes," she said nervously. "Arthur ... you already met Artie. Please, I beg you, leave us ..."

"No," he replied angrily, and she shuddered. "You're not going to take me away from my son, neither you." A surprising look came up on the redhead. "Don't be scared, honey. You will live with me and we will be very happy. A beautiful family, I promise you, my fair lady." Arthur re-entered Grace's personal space, who kept shivering at the words he had just heard. "As of now, no more Arthur. That name no longer exists." He saw how she suppressed her crying and fear ended up eating her away. "Don't be like that. Do you know how much I hate to see you that way...? So sad, so worried." He raised his hands and with his thumbs took the corner of her lips, raising them to form a smile. "I like this. See a beautiful smile on your face ... as beautiful as you, my love."

The pain and panic expressed by Grace's face mattered little to Arthur or, rather, as he had been known since that day, Joker. Tears came and ran over the furrows that formed her cheeks, in which he looked at her with his great euphoric smile. A gentle swinging began together with a slight humming and he began to sing:

_"That's life, I tell ya, I can't deny it. I thought of quitting, baby. But my heart just ain't gonna buy it. And if I didn't think it was worth one single try. I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly..."_

* * *

Arthur carried his son in his arms and Artie rested his head on his shoulder while with tears he looked at his mother behind them. Grace showed a blank stare without her crying stopping. The car doors opened and Arthur, leaving his chivalry afloat, gave the entrance to his beloved. She obeyed and then he and his son entered. He accommodated Artie on his legs and looked at him with pleasant happiness. The kid kept his eyes on his mother, and she did in the same way. The order was given to drive the car and the subordinates obeyed to drive through the dark and dangerous streets of the city.

And Grace saw how her life and as well his son's life ended to begin a new existence of madness and chaos with Arthur Fleck, the clown prince of crime and Joker from Gotham City.

**THE END**

* * *

**_Final A/N:_**

Thank you so much for join with me to the end. I'm going to say that my English were acceptable. Not ok, no good, just acceptable xD I used all my recourses like my notebooks, dictionaries and translations online, but I hope the idea was understandable.

I really hope that you enjoyed this fanfiction. I know that the fic is almost movie plot, but, the real idea of this was adding some love for Arthur, brighten the character's pessimist life. Of course with a little plot twist in this end, which I let you as a free interpretation.

Feel free to make any comments, constructive criticisms, opinions, etc. I would love to read you and for me it'll be a good feedback! Also know what you think about OC's, specially Grace. :)

Thanks again, I wish you a lovely 2020 and I hope we read us in any new story or fics.


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